#(the adoption jokes have continued by the way) and MEANWHILE everyone is eyeing that starting grid. were humming. we're making vague hand

[no27-autonation-honda]

congratulations to Mme. Pascale Leclerc, who has surely just experienced both the funniest and most unhinged weekend a mother could ever have. Dear fucking christ, I hope your middlest son brought you a bottle of champagne for yourself, ma'am.

[robinofgothamcity]

♡ prompt: “Hi! I’m her boyfriend. Ever heard of me?”

♡ character: roy harper / arsenal

♡ pronouns used: she/her

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes

"chug! chug! chug!" Dick and Jason screamed as you stabbed the side of the Red Bull can with your key and shotgunned it. Tim and Damian shook their heads as you popped another one open, "four years of college pays off babes," you said, crushing the two empty cans.

"so that's what father paid for?" Damian asked sarcastically. you rolled your eyes throwing him the can, "I got a degree didn't I? it's all apart of the college experience. am I right?" you asked Dick as he nodded in agreement. "and you will soon learn that too," you informed Tim making him shrug, "as for you Duke, don't listen to anything I'm saying. Tim already has a coffee addiction so he's not worth lecturing. you on the other hand haven't been addicted to coffee or energy drinks so stick to water!"

Bruce had called for everyone to meet at the batcave in order to talk about a few issues that was plaguing the Justice League. you knew Jason was less than impressed to be here meanwhile the rest of you were just happy to be there. you hadn't been to the manor in a few weeks and hadn't seen your adopted siblings in an even longer time span.

while all of you were sent off on patrol, you knew the part of Gotham you had to watch over hardly had any sus going on. not much high collar crimes happening in a suburb full of uppity soccer moms and hardly around dads. you looked over to Jason, giving him a sheepish smile.

"can I patrol with Jason?" you asked Bruce, raising your hand in the process. Jason gave you a look, "why?" he replied, a bit taken back. you shrugged, "because I never get the fun parts of town. you have downtown Gotham which always has some kind of bullshit going on and I want in." Bruce gave you the green light, making you jump on Jason's back, hitting in the process.

Cass giggled as she walked away with Steph. Jason growled, giving you the spare helmet, "great, first you and now Roy is on his way." you gave him an even slier smile, "really? Roy's joining us? that's awesome!" you exclaimed as he gave you a stoned face look, "do not go on flirting with my teammate. that's gross and really weird. especially coming from my sister."

you shook your head knowing exactly how you were going to be around the former Speedy.

the two of you had a bit of history that no one knew about. you had went on a mission with Jason after he called you for extra help and one thing led to another and the two of you landed in bed together. no one besides the two of you knew about that night; however, Kori had a hunch something happened although she never went out of her way to figure out what.

"aww, couldn't take Roy and I together? we could give Lian another sibling," you joked making Jason gag. the two of you continued to bicker the entire way to the meeting location as you saw Roy standing on top of a building. you wondered if Kori was going to make a stop to join but seeing as though Gotham was relatively quiet tonight, you figured she probably wouldn't.

"Harper!" you screamed, startling him. he perked up seeing you, "( last name ), Jay didn't inform me you were joining us or else I would have cleaned up," he said, meeting you on the sidewalk. Jason stared at you as to remember what he said earlier, "I joined Jason last minute. I offered my section of Gotham to Tim so I could see you," you winked as you Jason fuming.

the two of you started laughing, fully knowing that you were going to piss Jason off.

"I would offer to leave but I would never let you be alone with my sister," Jason replied as he pushed you to the other side of him. you sighed, "I was telling Jason earlier that he was too much of a baby when we're together. he doesn't like the idea of me giving Lian a half sibling."

Roy's mouth dropped in shock as Jason glared at you.

"well, I wouldn't be opposed to the idea," he replied as Jason jumped onto him. "that's my sister! don't be a dick!" he yelled as you started howling with laughter. the three of you walked on the sidekick, small conversations being said here and there but nothing much outside of bugging Jason really happened.

you checked your watch, seeing how much longer you had for patrol as you turned in the opposite direction of Jason and Roy.

"I'm gonna check this alley, y'all can check the other if you want!" you exclaimed, patting your weapon to reassure Jason that you'd be okay. you walked off, hearing Roy tell Jason something but you couldn't exactly point out what. "a coffee is really necessary right now," you said, a yawn coming out of you.

the alley was relatively quiet for a quick second before you felt someone wrap their arms around you. you laughed, feeling up Roy's muscled arm.

"ah, so you did manage to get Jason off of you," you whispered. he chuckled, spinning you around, "had too. you saw the way he was going to blow a gasket with the way we were talking," he joked, "plus, you mentioned giving Lian another sibling?" you smacked his shoulder, telling him that you were joking.

"I don't think it's a joke anymore babes," you rolled your eyes, letting yourself become entangled in his arms. you saw the way Roy's hair sopped down as he felt him lean in closer.

your arms snaked around his neck, getting lost in the kiss. in the back of your head, all you could hope for was that Jason didn't find you. you knew Jason wouldn't have mind THAT much if he did but you also knew that he could be very hotheaded and irrational at times. it all depended on his mood.

"damn I missed this," he murmured against your lips.

before you could lean back into it, you heard a scoff and a sound of disbelief. you instantly jumped out of his arms, seeing Dick and Damian staring at you two.

"hey guys," you murmured, scratching your head sheepishly. Roy stood next to you, half scared and half in shock, "you and Harper? come on, I thought you had better standards," you threw rock at Damian, making Roy laugh.

"don't tell Jay," you looked to Dick who whistled as a response. all of you, excluding Roy, got beeps from Bruce to finally head back to the Batcave. you looked to the boys and saw Roy heading towards Jay's direction, making you wonder if he would follow him back too, "we're talking about this later and not in front him him," Dick whispered in your ear.

you groaned, feeling like a child as all of you made your way back to the the manor.

+

you saw Cass walking inside of the cave with Duke as you wrapped your around their shoulder, "get over here!" Dick said, pulling you towards him and Tim who found out no thanks to him.

they stared you down in confusion.

"since when were you even mildly close with Roy and to that extreme?" Tim practically screamed, making you and Dick sush him; however, Dick couldn't help but agree.

"remember the time Jason invited me out to help him and the Outlaws?" you asked. Dick's eyes widened, connecting the dots, "I remember asking Jason if you got hurt because you were limping the day you came home...ew, that's fucking disgusting," Dick said as the two of them gagged dramatically.

you laughed, hearing Jason and Roy's voice enter the cave. Damian gave you a look, a sly smirk that practically said 'test me'. you smacked him on the head knowing he wouldn't actually give anything up but you knew that Dick would eventually make you tell Jason everything.

"anything of interest that I should know about?" Bruce asked all of you. you shook your head no as Roy bent down, "not that we would know," you stared at Roy, indicating that he should be quiet before Jason heard.

the debriefing went by a lot quicker than you thought as you stood between Dick and Roy. you could see Dick giving the ginger passive aggressive looks every now and then and it reminded you of when you were kids again. you were the middle child who was younger than Dick but older than Jason so he always had that protective nature over you.

"what're your plans after this?" Roy asked after Bruce let all of you go. you shook your head, indicating that you had nothing going on, "why? trying to coming over?" you asked, making sure that Jason didn't hear. Roy nodded enthusiastically, "come on Harper, at least purchase me dinner," you giggled.

before Jason could hear the conversation, you managed to sneak out of the house to avoid confrontation with your brothers. you knew Roy had a difficult life and while you knew he had his struggles, that didn't make him any less of a person. Jason was fine being his friend but you couldn't help but wonder why it was an issue if you ever began to date him.

your apartment was on the nicer part of Gotham no thanks to your dad allowing you to work for him in the clerical area of Wayne Enterprises. it paid more than enough and you were allowed to work from home whenever you didn't feel like coming in and when you did, you had your own office in a semi-private level of the building.

you quickly changed in your car into leggings and a hoodie before anyone actually realized what you were wearing. you waved a hello to the front desk officer before taking the elevator up. you figured Roy was already waiting outside of your door as you saw his sopping ginger hair leaning against the wall by your door.

"what'd you tell my brother in order to get away from him?" you asked, opening the door to your apartment. he showed you the texts as he lied to Jason, claiming he was going to the bar for a nightly thrill. "so, how have you been rent-a-bat?" he asked, plopping down on the couch and kicking his legs up.

"I am not a bat for rent, I am a bat for escort. I cost at least eight grand to be taken out," you replied, making Roy choke on the beer you gave him, "I got you in bed for free?" "you just got a really good discount. you paid for my breakfast after which I have to admit, it was a pretty good pancake deal."

you felt the wave of tired hit you again as Roy saw your head wanting to nod off, "tired?" he asked. you nodded as he grabbed the throw blanket and pulled it over you, "go to sleep, I'll be here when you wake up," he murmured in your year. you gave him one more look before sighing, "try not to break anything," you managed to say before feeling the wave of sleep hit you.

+

Roy was the first to wake up, seeing how gloomy Gotham looked as he saw your phone lighting up with a call. he grabbed it from the glass table, seeing the name 'Jacob' with a purple heart next to it.

"hello?" he asked, his eyebrows fluttering down in slight anger, "who is this?" the Jacob boy asked. Roy gave him a hearty laugh, "I'm her boyfriend. ever heard of me?" he asked, more confidently now.

with Roy's booming voice, it was hard for you not to wake up. you stirred in Roy's arms as you realized that the two of you had landed in your bed. you gave him a confused look as he hung up the phone, not bothering to answer to whatever it was Jacob was trying to say.

"who called?" you asked, "your friend 'Jacob'," he said in an accusatory tone. you giggled, grabbing Roy's phone and doing what he had done to every contact that wasn't your family, "getting toxic, are we?" you murmured, erasing random girls he had in his contact list, "only for you babe."

before he could reply, there was a knock on your door.

"it's Dick. he said he was stopping by for some papers Bruce need. mind getting it?" you asked, slipping Roy's t-shirt on and heading to the bathroom as Roy went towards the door.

he scratched his head lazily, not bothering to check the peep whole.

"Harper, I will kill you."

Roy's eyes widened, recognizing Jason's voice immediately. you hadn't realized what was going on until you heard a choking sound coming from your living room and ran out of the bathroom. you stood in front of Jason was toppled on top Roy as he had a firm grasp on his neck.

"Jason!" you screamed as he looked up to you. you gave him 'let him go' stare as you tapped your foot patiently, "let Roy go," you threatened as he released Roy from the chokehold but remained on top of him.

"explain...NOW!"

[onecanonlife]

In which Tommy travels back in time and tries to prevent a nightmare from happening to everyone he knows. Everyone else, meanwhile, is highly concerned.

(fic masterpost w/ ao3 links)

(first part) (previous part) (next part)

(word count: 4,756)

--------------------

Part Nine: Tubbo II

Tubbo feels adrift.

It’s not an emotion he does well with, if it’s even an emotion at all and not just a strange, unsettling state of being. By all rights, he shouldn’t be dealing with this at all; it’s not as if there’s not anything to do, not as if he’s not a member of Wilbur’s cabinet and not as if he’s not trying to corral the candidates into productive debates and not as if they haven’t just finished handling Sapnap’s pet-murdering bullshit. It’s not as if he’s not busy. Not as if he doesn’t have purpose. Adrift is not a word that should apply to him.

But then again, it’s not as if he doesn’t know why he feels it.

It’s Tommy.

So many things come back to Tommy, at the end of the day. Normally, it’s not a bad thing. There’s no place he’d rather be than at Tommy’s side. But that’s just it, though, is the problem in a nutshell, because Tommy’s side is a place he finds himself less and less frequently.

Not in a literal sense. Tommy’s still around all the time. Is still around him. Physically, at least. But Tubbo’s known Tommy for years, and that means he knows how to read him, which is why it’s troubling that he doesn’t know how to interpret the look in his eyes half the time, all dark and distant, like he’s miles and miles away, staring at something that Tubbo can’t see. Staring past him, past everyone.

It’s scary, if he’s being honest with himself. And scarier still that Tommy’s trying to hide it, that whenever he tries to so much as hint at something being the matter, Tommy laughs and says something loud and obnoxious and deflects and changes the subject and refuses to tell him anything at all. Which is so fucking wrong. Since when does Tommy keep secrets from him? Since when does Tommy have a secret that he can’t trust him with?

Sometimes, he thinks that he’s imagining it, is making up the whole thing, is getting lost in his head and inventing problems where there are none, just because he has been a little stressed recently, what with everything. But then, he’ll see someone else make a sharp motion, and Tommy will jerk away, face shuttering, and he knows that he’s not inventing any of it.

Because Tommy always tries to play it off, but Tommy reacts that way to lot of things, nowadays.

And Tubbo doesn’t know what to do, because Tommy won’t even tell him what the problem is.

So, he resorts to the only action he can think to take. He goes against one of the only things Tommy has told him, that first night when he started acting off.

He decides to talk to Wilbur about it.

“I think there’s something wrong with Tommy,” he says. Blurts out, more like, no dancing around it at all, but dancing around it would hardly help anyone. It’s certainly not helping Tommy.

From behind his desk, Wilbur puts his pen down, signaling his full attention. The sun shines through the window behind him, late afternoon light casting the office in a gentle glow. Wilbur is backlit against it, painting his features in slight shadow.

“In what way?” Wilbur asks. “Has he said anything to you?”

“No,” he says, “and that’s sort of the issue. He keeps acting weird, but he won’t talk to me about it. He just pretends like, like I’m dumb or something, or that I’m making shit up. But I’m not. And then he keeps on acting weird, and it’s like he doesn’t expect me to notice it.” Wilbur’s staring at him evenly, calmly, and he feels a burst of desperation—he’s not making this up, he’s not, and he doesn’t want Wilbur to believe that he is, to believe that he’s jumping at nothing, to dismiss him. “He keeps saying weird shit, and he flinches sometimes, or he looks at people really strangely, like he thinks they’re—like he thinks they’re ghosts or something. Or like Herobrine incarnate—did you see the way he was glaring at Awesamdude the other day when he came by? It’s—I swear there’s something wrong with him, I’m not even joking. Really, really wrong.”

His own words burn a little in his mouth, and his brain summons up a memory: the dark of night outside, Tommy clinging to him with the fervor of a dying man, the sentence like an exploding firework, far off. You have to stay alive.

As if he thought Tubbo was planning to do anything differently.

It takes a second for Wilbur to speak.

“I’ve noticed,” he says, and the weight in his tone prevents Tubbo from feeling most of the relief the statement provokes. The relief that he’s not alone in this, that someone else has seen what he’s seen. “Since the night he gave up his discs.”

“Yeah,” Tubbo agrees, and then he falls quiet. For a moment, Wilbur doesn’t say anything else either, but then he sighs, leaning forward.

“Tubbo,” he says, in that way of his that means he’s about to make a pronouncement of some sort. Tubbo leans in too, mirroring him. “I will be completely honest with you. I was hoping that whatever’s wrong, Tommy was talking to you about it. Because he’s certainly not talking to me.”

He feels his hopes die in his chest. He hadn’t realized how much he wanted Wilbur to have an easy solution. Or a solution at all. Wilbur always seems to know what to do.

But not, it seems, in this case.

“He’s not,” he says, and now the words just taste sour. “He’s not talking to me. He’s never not talked to me. I don’t know what the hell is going on.”

Something flashes on Wilbur’s face, too quick to process.

“Neither do I,” he says, and grimaces. “I’m not fond of that. I imagine you’re not either. I wish I had an answer for you, Tubbo, but I—I’m worried about pressing him on this. He seems fairly quick to close himself off lately. I’m sure you’ve noticed that as well. And he’s not come to me with anything.”

Tubbo’s certain he’s not mistaking the note of despair in his voice. The words, not like he used to, go unspoken. In a way, it almost makes him feel a little better, that whatever this is, Tommy’s not trusting Wilbur with it, either, not trusting the man who he’s adopted as an older brother, and who has adopted him in turn. Or at least, it would make him feel a little better, if it weren’t so damn worrying.

If Tommy didn’t seem to be caught up in something beyond his understanding, or control.

“So I can only guess,” Wilbur continues after a moment. “I considered the idea that something else happened that night. Something he hasn’t told anyone. The only trouble with that is I don’t know what could have happened that he’d feel like he couldn’t share.” He pauses, and when he goes on again, his voice is softer. “He already gave up his discs. For—for all of us. For L’Manberg. I don’t know what would have been worse than that, for him.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “He didn’t—I mean, he didn’t die. He didn’t die, and no one else did, so I don’t—do you think this could be about the discs, still? I mean, those were important to him. To us. But to him most of all.”

Wilbur’s eyes flash again, and Tubbo notes idly that he doesn’t have his glasses on. He probably should—it strains his eyes to read without them, so Tubbo’s not sure why he wouldn’t be wearing them right now.

“Maybe,” Wilbur says. “Maybe that’s what this is. Though I wouldn’t have wanted him to—Tubbo, you know I wouldn’t have wanted him to, right? Under any circumstances. I never would have asked it of him, and especially not if I knew it would affect him this badly.”

“I know,” he says. He’s a bit surprised Wilbur feels the need to ask, but there’s an odd insistence in the question.

Maybe he’s just stressed. Prime knows they all have been, these past few weeks, and Wilbur most of all. He’s running in an election at the same time as running the actual country, and that’s got to weigh on anyone.

“The way he looks at me sometimes,” Wilbur says softly, shaking his head. “It’s as if—I don’t know. I shouldn’t—sorry, Tubbo, I don’t mean to ramble. You’ve got as much on your plate as any of us.” And Wilbur smiles, but for some reason, it feels fake. Plastered on. Like an expectation, the fulfillment of a role.

“I mean, yeah,” he says, shaking the oddness off. “But stuff about Tommy isn’t stuff that I’ve got to put on my plate, y’know? It’s just—important. Not something to check off a to-do list.”

Wilbur’s gaze softens. “I know,” he agrees. “I feel the same way. He’s my—well. You know.”

“Everyone knows,” he says.

“I can only hope,” Wilbur replies. He glances down at his desk, eyes flitting across his papers, the pen he’s set down, and then back up to Tubbo’s face. “But, Tubbo, if I can be completely frank, I think that out of everyone, you’ve got the best shot at getting him to talk to you. He’s—I mean, he’s your best friend, and you’re his, right? Part of a pair, you are. So even if he won’t—or doesn’t feel like he can talk to the rest of us, he might talk to you.”

“Maybe,” he says. “I haven’t had a lot of luck so far.” He frowns. “You really think he won’t say anything to you?”

He almost regrets the question, because it puts an expression on Wilbur’s face. Not a very nice one, and it’s gone in an instant, but for a second, he looks intensely sad. And between one blink and the next, it’s vanished, sort of like it’s a practiced motion, covering up things like that.

No, he’s reading too much into it. Surely.

They’re all so stressed. He can’t wait for the election to be over.

“I don’t know,” Wilbur says. “I don’t want to count on it. I sort of doubt—and this could all be a moot point, of course. Maybe he just needs more time, and we’re worrying about something that’ll blow over. It’s Tommy, after all. He’s always been so resilient. But that means he’s not going to talk about things until he’s ready to talk. If he truly doesn’t want to, we’re not going to be able to make him. All we’ll succeed in doing is making everyone miserable.”

“What do I do, then?” he demands. “I can’t just not do anything. He’s—you told me you saw it, too. There’s something wrong.”

“I know,” Wilbur says, voice rising. “I know, I’ve been telling you that I know. I don’t like it, Tubbo. I just—” He stops, breathes in, and Tubbo notices that his hands were clenched into fists and are now relaxing, fingers uncurling to rest on the desk’s wooden surface. “We can try to be there for him. Be ready when he comes to us. Let him know that he can, even if he doesn’t want to right now. That’s what we can do, if nothing else. I don’t like it. But we can’t force anything out of him, so that’s the best thing, I think. We be there, as much as he lets us. And when he finally tells us what the problem is, we kill it with fire.”

That last part, he’s on board with.

“Alright,” he says. “I’ll do my best.”

And it occurs to him that he never told Wilbur about what happened that night, when Tommy came to him. In tears, acting so strangely, his voice wavering and wobbling and his whole body shaking like a leaf.

But Tommy told him not to tell Wilbur. He specifically asked him not to, so while bringing his general concerns to him was one thing, sharing that would be another. He’s not willing to break Tommy’s trust like that. Not unless things get truly desperate.

He thinks they’re not quite to that point yet. He hopes they’re not quite to that point yet.

“I know you will,” Wilbur says. “I never doubt you, Tubbo. And I’ll do my best, too. I promise.” He smiles, and it’s not as warm as Wilbur’s smiles once were, he thinks. But it is genuine, if tired, if concerned, if ever so slightly strained. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“Somehow,” he agrees. “Thanks, Wilbur.”

“Of course. You’re always welcome to come talk to me.”

It does make him feel a bit better, talking to Wilbur. Knowing that he’s not alone in his concerns, at least, and the fact that he’s got Wilbur on his side is always reassuring. Wilbur’s like a light in the dark, a bit, the leader that they all look to, and his advice is always sound, always manages to be at least a little bit comforting.

So he tries to take it.

He tries to be there for Tommy, even if it’s difficult, at times, to stop himself from demanding answers, from taking him by the shoulders and shaking him until he admits that there’s something the matter, until he reveals what he can do to help him. Difficult not to react when he flinches, or when he stares at someone like they’re either a miracle or a ghost or something else entirely, or when he disappears without a word of warning only to reappear a few hours later as if he never went anywhere at all.

It’s difficult, but he tries. And sometimes, it’s almost like normal. Sometimes, Tommy grins at him with a gleam in his eyes and a bounce in his step, and they go off to try and rob Sapnap or mess around a little with Ponk’s lemon trees or get back at Fundy for the latest annoying prank. Sometimes, Tommy’s all bluster and confidence and unwavering chaos, and it’s like nothing’s changed at all, even as the elections draw nearer.

Tommy’s been very diligent about those. He even wrote a lot of the regulations, with a seriousness that Tubbo didn’t know what to make of. But the rules have been working so far—everyone’s declared their campaigns, there’s been no unsavory endorsements, no signs yet of voter fraud or other such shenanigans, and everyone running is a citizen of L’Manberg.

Everything ought to be alright.

“Are you alright?” Tommy asks.

They’re fucking around around the base of one of Eret’s new towers. Tommy suggested griefing one, just a bit, as a little prank, but then backtracked the idea, so now they’re just hanging around. Eret’s not even here at the moment, he doesn’t think.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says. “Just got a lot on my mind, is all. Elections and whatnot.”

Tommy snorts. “Don’t think so hard about it,” he says. “We’ve got this one in the bag. No way we don’t get the popular vote, so long as everyone does it by the book.”

“It’s making sure of that that’s the problem,” he says wryly. “It’s not as if we’ve got an impartial lawyer around here. I’d ask Big Q to help out, but Big Q’s got a vested interest in fucking around with things. At least I can pretend to be neutral. Sort of.”

Tommy makes a noncommittal sound. “You’re doing great, Tubs,” he says. “I’m telling you, this should go right.”

“I’m glad you’re confident,” he says, and squints up at the tower. It’s mostly stone, but nearer to the top, it seems that Eret has gotten a bit more elaborate. Gold glints in the afternoon light, just begging to be stolen. Maybe later, though, and only if Eret wouldn’t be too bothered.

“I’m glad I’ve got something to be confident about,” Tommy mutters, and he turns his head sharply. Tommy isn’t looking at him, is staring off at where the walls are visible, not too far from here. “I worked hard on this, you know. It’s fucking airtight, is what it is. I know what I’m doing.”

“You did a good job with all the rules,” he agrees. “I think Wilbur was impressed with how much thought you put into it.”

Tommy blinks, and then puffs his chest out. “He better damn well be,” he says. “I put so much thought. All of my thoughts, right there. So big and cool. I’m going to write a book of my thoughts, and it will be a bestseller, and everyone will read it and weep, that’s how poggers it will be.”

“They’ll weep, alright,” he says wryly. “Probably from the damage it will do to their eyes. And their brain cells.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Tommy says. “Not my fault you don’t understand genius.”

“Genius is a word,” he says. “You’re right about that. Not sure you know what it means.”

“Why are you the way that you are,” Tommy says, rolling his eyes with great vigor. And then, to Tubbo’s surprise, he grabs his hand. “C’mon, let’s just go—fucking sit somewhere or something, I don’t want to do shit right now. It’s been exhausting, innit?”

He’s on the verge of pointing out that they’ve got a whole place where they normally go and sit, but Tommy doesn’t seem to be thinking about their bench. He leads him a few paces away from the tower and then flops on the grass, laying on his back and staring up at the sky. Tubbo joins him after a moment, situating himself right next to him.

“We’re almost there,” he says after a moment. “We’re almost done with it. Maybe then we’ll be able to get some good sleep.”

Tommy snorts. “It’s never done, on this server,” he mutters. “There’s always something else. There’s always—” He breaks off. “But yeah, you’re right. It should get better, at least. One less thing to try and be thinking about, I suppose.”

It’s on the tip of his tongue to ask what else Tommy is thinking about. What else is on his mind. But the question won’t be welcome, and he’s trying to be open and inviting and supportive, not pushy, no matter how much he wants to be, so he refrains. And Tommy doesn’t say anything else, just lets out a long breath, so for a while, they’re just lying there on the grass, watching the clouds drift by.

It’s peaceful. He can almost forget that there’s so much going on.

And then Tommy speaks up again.

“If I were to get you a baby zombie piglin,” he says, musingly, as if he’s speaking to himself, “would it have to be any particular one? Or do y’think you’d be alright with any? Like, like replacing a goldfish or something?”

And somehow, that’s the breaking point.

“Okay,” he says, sitting bolt upright, “what the fuck?”

“What?” Tommy says. “It’s just a question.”

“No, it’s not,” he—says. He says. He’s not snapping. He’s not angry—but there’s something bubbling up, boiling over, and if it’s not anger, it’s frustration, at the very least. “It’s not just a question. It’s weird. You keep doing this. You say weird shit and you don’t explain any of it, and I’m left trying to figure out what the fuck you’re talking about, and you—you’re not talking to me, Tommy! You’re not telling me anything!”

Tommy sits up too, slowly, eyes wide, but he can’t bring himself to regret the outburst. Though maybe he will later.

“There’s nothing to tell,” Tommy starts, but he shakes his head hard, and the world blurs for a moment.

“That’s bullshit,” he says, and to his embarrassment, his voice cracks. “That is such bullshit. Do you honestly think I can’t tell something’s up? You can say that there’s not all you like, but that doesn’t change what you—you flinch when people get too close. You do weird things. You vanish and then come back without saying where you went, literally ever. You say shit that’s just—that’s just off. And then you try to brush it all off, but you can’t, you can’t brush this off, Tommy. Do you think I’m stupid?”

Tommy is completely, utterly silent. Tubbo tries to meet his gaze, but finds that he can’t, due to the fact that there are tears in his eyes, and everything is swimming.

“I just want to know what’s wrong,” he says, and doesn’t bother trying to disguise his misery. He’s gotten this far. Might as well let it all out. “I want to know what happened to you. I want you to let me help. I want you to tell me things, like you used to.”

“I can’t,” Tommy says, and his voice sounds alarmed, almost pleading, like he’s begging him to drop it. Well, he won’t. If he thinks he will, he’s got another thing coming. He’s let this drop too many times. Enough is enough. It’s time to push. “I can’t—there’s nothing going on, there’s not—not anything that’s a big deal or that you need to worry about, I just—”

“Stop lying,” he says. “Please, stop lying to me.”

Tommy goes quiet again. And that’s setting off all his head’s warning sirens, because Tommy never just goes quiet, but isn’t that just another thing to add to the list? Another response that isn’t as it should be? Mounting evidence that Tommy’s claim of being alright is just a bunch of horseshit?

“It was that night, wasn’t it?” he presses on, and his throat is closing up, but he chokes out the words anyway. It’s sudden, this sensation of being overwhelmed, but he’s powerless to stop it all from hitting. Powerless to keep himself from thinking about how there’s something wrong with Tommy, something wrong with his best friend in all the worlds, and Tommy won’t talk to him. “That night you came to me, and then you gave up the discs. Something else happened. Was it Dream? Did he do something? Or was it before that? Did something happen before you woke me up? Is that why you were crying? You’ve got to tell me, Tommy, please. I’m not letting this go. I shouldn’t have let it go before. I just thought—I thought you’d tell me, when you could, but you haven’t. You’ve been suffering, and I’ve just been watching.”

His voice cracks again. He can’t care.

“No,” Tommy says, almost a whisper. “No, Tubbo, no, that’s not it, there’s not—this isn’t something you can do anything about, Tubbo, that’s all. That’s all it is.”

“Do you not trust me, then?” he asks. “Is that it? Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” This is sharper, louder. “No—fuck, of course you didn’t. You haven’t done anything. You’re fine, Tubbo, it’s all fine, and I’m handling it. I’m doing alright.”

“But you’re not,” he says. “You’re not. You’re not alright.”

He blinks, hard, and the tears clear, finally. Tommy is staring at him, jaw slightly slack.

“I am,” he says, but Tubbo shakes his head again.

“You’re not,” he insists, before he can take that any further. “Why won’t you tell me about it? You know I won’t tell anyone else if you don’t want me to. You know that.”

“I know,” Tommy says. “I do know that, Tubs, c’mon—”

“But then why won’t you—”

“It’ll put you in danger,” Tommy snaps. “I’m not risking you!”

There are so many things he could say to that. Voicing the implication that whatever’s going on, it’s already put Tommy in danger, is high on the list, and it makes him sick to think that maybe Tommy just doesn’t care. Maybe he’s not paying any mind to the danger to himself, even as he worries about everyone else around him. But Tommy won’t listen if he says as much. He can tell already.

So he goes with his gut. Recalls the old conversation, puts together all the glances and the flinches and the stares when he thinks no one else is watching. Draws himself a picture, though he’s sure it’s still incomplete.

“Tommy,” he says, and tries to keep his voice level, steady, “I’m not going to die.”

Tommy’s face crumples like a wet sheet of paper, and there is a long pause.

“You don’t know that,” Tommy finally says, wavering and thready, and Tubbo doesn’t know why Tommy’s so scared, still. He doesn’t know what happened to make him fear this. And maybe he never will, if he can’t coax it out of him. But maybe that’s not so important at the moment, not more important than offering reassurance.

And that, he can do.

“I do know that,” he says. “Look, I’ll swear it right now. I’ll swear it on—L’Manberg itself. I’m not going to die.”

Tommy’s eyes go very pinched and squinty, and he bites down on his bottom lip, hard. Tubbo knows that look, so he extends his arms and tugs Tommy into him, into a hug, so that Tommy can cry without him seeing. He almost expects the embrace to be rejected, but after a moment of stiffness, Tommy melts against him, tucking his chin on his shoulder.

“You gotta have a little more faith in my abilities, man,” he says, aiming for some levity. “I’m not so easy to kill.”

“I do have faith in you, Tubbo,” Tommy mumbles.

“Then let me help,” he says, and decides that a compromise is in order. “Look, you don’t even have to tell me everything. Or anything. But if there’s something I can do, let me do it. Let me help you. Whatever’s going on, you don’t have to be on your own. You don’t have to handle it by yourself or whatever stupid bullshit you’ve been on about.”

“It’s not as easy as that,” Tommy says, still barely discernible.

“I think it could be,” he replies. “I think you’re overthinking it.” He holds Tommy a bit tighter. “And really, I’m not gonna die, big man. And even if I did, you wouldn’t be rid of me that easily. I’d come back as a ghost and haunt you for eternity. Move your shit around when you’re not looking.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Tommy whispers, “and I don’t know why.”

Okay, that’s—okay. He’s not going to mess up the progress he’s made, even though he’d dearly love to comment on whatever the fuck that means.

“Alright, then,” he says, “but are you hearing me? Can you do that? Let me in, just a little bit? ‘Cause I mean, really. You’ve got to be able to trust me to look after myself. I appreciate you trying to protect me or whatever you’re doing, but not if you’re hurting yourself doing it. And not if you’re being stupid about it. ‘Cause I’m not some fragile fucking flower, you know? So can you? Let me help?”

Tommy shifts a bit, but doesn’t attempt to pull back, so Tubbo takes that as permission to keep holding him.

“Okay,” Tommy says, after a minute, voice small. “Okay, I’ll—I still can’t, I can’t tell you much, but I’ll try. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think that I—that I didn’t trust you or some shit, that’s not it at all—”

He sounds increasingly distressed, so Tubbo cuts in.

“That’s fine,” he says. “We’re okay. Just don’t shut me out, alright? Whatever I can do, let me do it. That’ll be enough for now.”

Whether it will always be enough is another question. But, baby steps. Baby steps.

“Okay,” Tommy says. “Alright. I’ll try.”

He’s still crying. Tubbo doesn’t comment on it. Not even when Tommy finally pulls back, and his eyes are red-rimmed, avoiding his gaze. Not even when they go back to L’Manberg together, Tommy staring straight ahead except for when he’s not, except for when he casts little glances over to him, as if to check that he’s still there.

Tubbo’s gotten more questions than answers out of this. But he’s also gotten a promise.

He’ll hold him to his word. And he’ll make a private promise of his own.

He won’t die. And Tommy won’t either. They’re both going to come out the other side, and everything really will be alright again.

[harunayuuka2060]

An MC who was raised by Solomon as a abandoned child but he left just as soon as they were old enough to handle themselves with no explanation as to why. So by the time they meet again at the exchange program, MC ignores Solomon and both feel conflicted with each other. How would the Demon Brothers + Undateables react to MC confessing to their past with everyone, with Solomon overhearing in the background with MC about how they wish to go back together as a family again, to call him father again, but is afraid to admit it to him, thinking he left them because he hated them.

(Forgive me for the little bit of angst, I woke up like 2am and that thought immediately came to mind. XD)

“Hi~ From now on, I will be your father.” That’s the first time you have met him. He had adopted you from an orphanage. You found him suspicious at first, but you eventually liked him because of his clumsiness and awful jokes.

“Solomon...” You called. He gave you an apologetic look. “Hehe... I just... tried...” His voice faltered when you pointed to the destroyed kitchen. 

“Sorry.”

You were just nine years old and you were already comfortable in his presence. Even though you were basically cats and dogs inside the house, you have treated him as your real father... 

But one day, he told you to go shopping. “Here’s the money. Buy whatever you want.”

You looked at him confused. “Um, are you sure? This is a lot.” He smiled and said, “You should learn how to handle money from now on.” 

At that time, you didn’t understand. But when you came back, he wasn’t there to welcome you... All of his belongings were gone, even the pictures of him... Like he erased everything about him.

---------------------------------------------------------

“MC, we have noticed that you and Solomon never talk.” Simeon asked with a worried tone. Him and the others had called you to discuss things. It actually started when you first came to Devildom, and they still remember how your eyes widened upon seeing Solomon and you running out from the council room. Luke and Mammon had also seen you crying in one of the empty rooms in RAD. Lucifer and Diavolo had also noticed the odd behavior of Solomon when he sees you walking in the corridor, like how he would walk the other way just to avoid you.

You let out a half-hearted laugh, “It’s nothing really important.” 

“If it is not important, you wouldn’t act like that, MC.” Lucifer stated, giving you a serious look. “We’re here to help you and you just have to be honest.” You bite your lower lip and began telling your history with Solomon.

“I met Solomon when I was five. My parents abandoned me in an orphanage and he was the one who adopted me... We had lived like a father and child. I would take care of him since he cannot cook proper food and him, on the other hand, would support me financially.” You paused when you felt someone rubbing your back, it was Satan. 

“Continue.”  You nodded and smiled. “But when I turned ten, he disappeared. He just told me that I should go shopping, giving me huge amount of money. I was honestly excited at that time...” Tears started to prickle your eyes. Lucifer and Diavolo were looking at you right now with concern and a hidden hatred for Solomon. 

“I-I even bought his favorite shirt... That stupid Sailor Moon shirt he really liked back then. B-But when I got home... He wasn’t there...” This time, your tears were flowing freely on your face. Mammon and Levi were already crying while Beel and Belphie were listening intently, waiting for you to go on.

“MC, then what do you want to do with Solomon? Do you hate him?” Simeon asked softly. You shook your head. 

“No... I never hated him. I missed him. I wanted to hug him when I saw him again here in Devildom... But I couldn’t...” You were wiping the tears from your face as you felt your voice quivered. “I am afraid that he actually hates me that’s why he left-!” 

“I want Solomon to be my father again-!” Your sobbing were echoed inside the room after saying that. 

Meanwhile, Solomon was clutching his chest after hearing what you have said. Asmo had texted him to go there and he never expected that was what he was going to hear. 

“I missed you too, MC.” He said softly. Tears already dripping from his eyes. 

----------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you sure about this, Solomon? Are you really going to leave MC alone?” Michael asked when he visited him at his house. They were in your room and you were sound asleep. . 

“I have to, Michael. I have just realized that if I stayed with MC a little bit longer, they will never have a normal life. I only want happiness for them because they’re my child.” He said, lightly caressing your cheek. 

“So you are afraid that they might suffer because you’re a sorcerer?” 

“Yes. If other witches and sorcerers found out about MC, they will use them against me.” Michael nodded since it was the truth. You were his weakness and so, leaving you would be the best solution he could think of.

[thanks-captain-obvious]

So here is the continuation of my Daminette hc since it seems that no one really like to stop me.

No. The Batfam did not abandon Marinette suddenly because of seemingly questionable reaction to fear toxin. But more on that later.

So as I was saying, Robin is acting really weird during patrol and the Batfam couldn't help but notice.

But who could blame him when it really bothers him? Marinette seems so always cool and collected. Always moving with grace and with purpose.

But that Marinette that he saw? The Marinette who cries in her sleep. That is not the Marinette he knew. And it bothers him.

He chalked it up to a reluctant sibling feeling on his side and dare he say it, he's already warming up to Marinette.

Marinette just seems—invicible. Just like his mother.

Cool. Calm. Collected.

How wrong he was

Why would she cry?

Anyway, Batfam decided its Dicky bird that will talk to Damian by the end of patrol because nothing has bothered their youngest this much since Talia.

But Robin easily evaded Dick's concern by saying he's tired.

So now, the Batfam has two dillemas. Namely— Damian and Marinette.

Anyway, Damian decided to watch Marinette closely the next day.

Marinette is her usual, sunny self. Smiling kindly at everyone, bonding with Alfred in the kitchen, playing UMS with Tim or just watching Jason lift weights in the gym.

It may seem like a dickish move but Damian deliberately spilled coffee on Marinette's sketches just to rile up Marinette.

Jason is so ready to shoot him right then and there. After all, it was only recently that Marinette started designing clothes again.

And it may be worth it after all. Because Damian saw it.

For a split second, Marinette's eyes had misted over it like she is about to cry. In fact, if Damian isn't watching really, really close, he would miss it.

It quickly change over into something unreadable before her eyes settles into those calm sapphires once again.

And so for the next few days, Damian will try to provoke Marinette over and over again.

To no avail.

Meanwhile, Dick tried to talk him again. Of course, he dismissed the concern easily by saying he got it handled.

Anyway, Bruce will finally had enough of Damian's obvious attempts at provoking Marinette so he will talk to his son about it.

But before he could let a word out, Tim will rush into the study and blurt out two words that will instantly make both of them pale.

She knows

During dinner with Cass and Steph in the Manor(they wanted to meet their new sister), the Bats will address the elephant in the room.

Marinette will then explain how she find it odd that Bruce offered to adopt her just after she mentioned to Batman that she is an orphan.

She then will tell them all about herself (minus being Ladybug) and say that she will kept all their secrets and there is no need to worry.

Marinette will also explain how she deleted her data on the internet and steal all her school records in Paris before burning them off.

She explained when she went to Gotham, she wanted to start over.

Tim is impressed with all that of course. But one question remains, how are you immune to fear toxin?

Which Marinette answered happily and she narrated all about Hawkmoth and his reign. Living under Hawkmoth had enabled her to control her emotions not just on surface level.

Bruce expressed his concerns if she had been akumatized.

Marinette smiled graciously and said no and kept it at that.

Batfam is appaled to learn that something of this magnitude happened to Paris under their noses without anyone noticing.

Alfeed then stepped in and expressed that Marinette needs her rest now.

But in the midst of all that, something still nags at Damian.

Why come to Gotham? Another city full of terror.

The answer came to him when Damian got hostaged by the Joker.

She is Ladybug, the hero that once protected Paris.

He realized this when Marinette easily managed to save him single-handedly through some convoluted plan.

Ladybug's trademark and way of defeating akuma, if what Tim had managed to unearth about Ladybug is true.

And while he may not have Tim's genius mind, Damian is not the son of the greatest detective for nothing.

Of course he managed to put two and two together.

So Damian confronted Marinette about it much later.

It was then that Marinette completely opened herself up.

And to him nonetheless!

Marinette told him how she got her Miraculous— the thing that gives her powers, about her partner, about Hawkmoth, about everything that lead up to the confrontation against Hawkmoth and how she is too late to save her parents.

And how, every single day, she tortures herself of what could have been.

And so she explained that the fear toxin did not much do anything to her because she is, in fact, already living in her nightmare every single day— her parents dying because she had been too careless.

No matter how much Damian tried to tell her its not her fault, to Marinette, everything had been her fault.

After that conversation, Damian and Marinette had been closer.

Everybody in the Manor noticed of course. Damian and Marinette would spend hours alone sketching and walking around Gotham. Or just plain talking.

Damian would also sometimes spar with Marinette to train her knowing that she defeated a supervillain before without any semblance of training, what more if she had mentor who actually teach her how to fight?

Dick, as usual, had been the first one to confront Damian about the pair's newfound closeness. But Damian just rolled his eyes and say that he realized that she is more tolerable than any of you combined.

Then, Bruce, Tim, Jason, Steph.

It was only Cass that actually managed to get something out of Damian.

"She is so much more than meets the eye." He said.

After that, the Batfam contentedly accept the situation, even if the obvious inside jokes are a bit unnerving, to say the least.

I mean, Damian is smiling and joking around with her.

And where even the nickname "Little Lady" had come from?

Everything is sunshine and rainbows until Marinette received a call one day. A call from one Adrien Agreste.

Damian recognized the name and immediately rushed out to defend Marinette. Adrien Agreste, Gabriel Agreste's son.

He is so sure that Adrien is here to take revenge on Marinette for his father.

Only to be surprised by Marinette's squeal of excitement upon seeing the blonde.

Marinette rushed out to the bottom of the stairs and into Adrien Agreste's arms.

For some reason, seeing Marinette hugging Adrien tightly made him want to kill the bastard more.

Cass saw Damian's reaction and squinted her eyes at his brother.

Anyway, their hug is interrupted by Damian clearing his throat.

When Marinette looked at him, she gave him a sheepish smile and a look that says "Later"

Everyone welcomed Adrien and offered to have him stay for a week after Marinette said that he is a dear friend from Paris. Adrien easily agreed and the two went off with Alfred to sort out the room Adrien will stay in.

Meanwhile, Tim saw Damian's dirty look at the blonde and his tight grip at his cutlery. Cass caught his eyes and mentally confirmed what he just saw.

Cass gave a subtle nod at that.

Smirking, Tim took a gulp from his coffee.

For a few days, Marinette will tour Adrien around the City while Damian will sulk at his room. Whenever Marinette and Adrien is around, Damian will always snap irritably at the two of them. This will result at Bruce scolding Damian.

Damian, being the brat that he is, will leave the table.

Marinette will confront Damian one night and explained that Adrien is Chat Noir and a dear friend of her and for Damian to act nice around him.

Damian will say he already knows by seeing how the blonde is being as bratty as his superhero namesake.

Marinette slapped him before promptly leaving the room.

On the other hand, Marinette and Adrien will finally have the Talk.

Adrien will reveal that he is in the process of being adopted by Amelia and Marinette will likewise admit that Bruce is in the process of adopting her.

Adrien will then give her a chuckle and say: I don't know about that, Bugaboo. One of your "brothers" seems like he will be against the idea.

When Marinette demanded what he meant, he simply gave her a wide chesire grin.

And there it is! Another one of my cringe-worthy Daminette hc. Let me know if you want me to stop or you are so bored you have nothing to read anymore aside my cringy Daminette ideas.

Part 1 • Here • Part 3

Taglist:

@loysydark @eliza-bich @ilovefluffbutsmutisalsogreat @iwritelikeimrunningoutoftime @goblinwhoships @amayakans

@pawsitivelymiraculous @i-am-ironic @emilytopaz

Edit: added the links.

[cali-holland]

Interview Trouble, Part Two- Tom Holland Mini Series

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Prompt: With your relationship now public, you and Tom do interviews together.

Word Count: 1900

Part One

Masterlist    Tom Holland Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

A/N: Didn’t intend on doing a part two, but I couldn’t help myself!

~~~

“Hi, everyone, I am Y/N Y/L/N.” You smiled at the camera.

“And I’m Tom Holland.” Tom said with a wave.

“And we’re here to answer some questions while playing with puppies.” You explained, as prompted. Tom immediately started to try to play with as many puppies as he could. Meanwhile, you just casually played with the one nearest you. Your relationship had been public for a year now, and, with Tom’s new movie coinciding with you releasing new music, your managers set up couple’s interviews for the two of you to do together.

“How did you two meet?” The interviewer asked, off camera.

“We met,” Tom started, looking at you with a smile, “At this pub in London about two years ago. I had been a fan of Y/N’s music for a while, so when I saw her I just had to go say hi.”

“Correction. He tripped and fell on his way over to me so I had to help him up.” You teased and he pouted.

“What can I say? I was already falling for you.” He laughed, “But it’s true. I was whipped.”

“I’m whipped too.” You leaned over to give him a peck on the lips.

“You live together now. Would you two ever adopt a dog?” The interviewer spoke up. As if on cue, a small black puppy flopped down into your lap and started to fall asleep.

“Aw, I feel chosen.” You smiled, softly petting the dog. You turned your attention back to the camera to answer the question. “We haven’t really thought about it, have we?” You looked over at Tom.

“We haven’t, no.” He laughed, “I love that you have to look at me to make sure we haven’t talked about getting a dog.”

“Maybe I just want to look at you.” You joked, playfully rolling your eyes at your boyfriend.

“We should get a dog, though. When we go home next, we’ll get a dog, just for you Buzzfeed.” Tom said, continuing to play the puppies crawling over his lap.

“What’s the most romantic thing you’ve done for each other?” The interviewer continued.

“Oh God,” You let out a small sigh as you started to think about what you’d consider to be the most romantic thing.

“Oh God? Am I really not that romantic?” Tom questioned, feigning offense.

“No, no.” You laughed.

“Did you see her reaction? Just ‘oh God, he never does anything romantic’.” He teased.

“I didn’t say that.” You playfully hit his arm. “I need to think about it.”

“I say, the most romantic thing you’ve done is- remember when we first started dating and you were over at my place?”

“Oh, this.” You smiled fondly. Tom turned to the camera to continue explaining.

“We’d only been dating for about a month, and I got really sick when Y/N was at my house. I had food poisoning so I couldn’t stomach anything, but she stayed with me and made me soup when I could eat again.”

“That’s such an odd thing for you to consider the most romantic thing I’ve ever done for you.” You teased. “You were like ‘most romantic thing? She saw me puke but she stayed’. Peak of romance right there.”

“It’s true, though. I really thought ‘she’s seen me vomit, she’s going to break up with me’, but you stayed. You’ve done a lot of romantic things, but that was the first one that I was like ‘I’m in love with this girl’.” He said, a small blush in his cheeks because, yes, he did just embarrassingly admit to the world that him being so sick was ‘the peak of romance’.

“Aw, babe.” You smiled, leaning over and kissing him. “I think the most romantic thing you’ve done for me was when we were in Atlanta, just before my tour while you were filming Avengers. You had the day off and we went to this small boutique, and I saw this cute wolf figurine.” You held up with your hands about the size of it, not bigger than your own hand. “I didn’t buy it that day, but when you surprised me on tour like a month later, you gave me that because you’d gone back and gotten it for me.”

“I like that you both went for small gestures, when we’ve all seen the Bali pictures.” The interviewer joked, referring back to when Tom surprised you with a trip to Bali. Not only was the trip a surprise holiday, but he also had candles and rose petals put throughout the hotel room.

“Oh, no, that’s up there.” You laughed. The small puppy on your lap let out a whine, calling for attention.

“We’re definitely adopting a dog.” Tom said and you nodded in agreement.

And a couple weeks later, when you both returned to England, you had adopted not one, but two puppies.

~~~

Back in England, you two still had more interviews to do. This time, though, you two were doing it through Facebook live. Instead of having an interviewer ask questions, you two read off a cue card, asking each other questions to see who knew the other better.

“Which of your movies is my favorite?” You asked Tom, once the cameras started to roll.

“Far From Home.” He said, smugly, already knowing he got the right answer. “What’s my favorite song of yours?”

“A Thousand Years.” You replied, immediately knowing his answer. It was the first song you had written about him, and he went weak anytime he heard it. “What’s my go-to drink?”

“I might not know this.” Tom laughed, nervously. “I like beer, but yours is tequila, right?”

“Two years and you still question if I like tequila.” You teased. “But that’s right.”

“Who was my childhood celebrity crush? Damn, that’s easy.” He shook his head, “Unfair.”

“Is it Jennifer Aniston?” You asked, and he nodded, “I guessed that one.”

“Oh sure.”

“Who would I love to collab with?”

“Ed Sheeran.” Tom replied quickly. 

“You know me so well.”

“What’s my all-time favorite movie?” Tom read the card, laughing, “Wait, I don’t even know this one.”

“Does Dodgeball count? We’ve watched it like a million times together.” You joked.

“Yeah, it counts.” He nodded, approvingly.

“Last question. What’s my ring size?” 

“Wait, I know this.” Tom paused, thinking about it. “I just talked to your sister about this the other day.”

“You what?” Your eyes went wide at his comment. He laughed, awkwardly remembering the interview was live.

“She was talking about how she has a ring that she wants to get rid of, she was going to give it to you.” He explained, maintaining his cool. The blush on his face told you another story; you could tell he was lying. He may be an actor, but he could never lie to you, no matter how much he wanted to.

The interview’s director cut the livestream there, and everyone left you and Tom on the couch to talk about the elephant in the room.

“So you asked my sister about my ring size.” You said, smiling hopefully at Tom.

“Yeah,” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to spoil it. God, I’m so bad at keeping secrets.”

“I love that you suck at keeping secrets. It’s adorable and it’s so completely you.” You placed a hand on his arm, rubbing it softly. Tom fished into his pant pockets and pulled out the small red box.

“This isn’t how I wanted to do this, but I don’t really care because I just want to be with you.” Tom shifted off the couch and onto one knee.

“You don’t have to do this now. I can wait.” You reassured him, knowing that you couldn’t convince him to change anyway. Not that you wanted to wait- your answer would still be the same no matter when or how he asked.

“Y/N Y/L/N, I love you more than I can explain. Everyday that I spend with you, I fall more in love, and I want to spend everyday with you for the rest of my life. I’m already the luckiest and happiest man on earth because I have you, but will you make me even luckier and happier and marry me?” Tom asked, popping open the box to present a beautiful, small diamond ring to you.

“I love you so much- yes!” You hadn’t even finished your own sentence before Tom was already slipping the ring onto your finger. Both of you knew exactly what you’d say, and it made you love him even more. He sat back on the couch next to you, so that you could kiss your fiance properly.

~~~

“Please welcome the talented, friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, Tom Holland!” Jimmy Kimmel announced as the curtain opened to reveal Tom. Tom walked out onto the stage, waving at the audience, and shaking hands with Jimmy. He saw you in the crowd and blew you a cheeky kiss before sitting down in his spot.

“So, it’s been a year since you’ve last been on the show. How has life been?” Jimmy asked.

“It’s been good, just lots of work. I spent a good portion of last year just working on different sets. I got some exciting stuff coming soon.” Tom replied happily.

“You also,” Jimmy paused as he got out a picture of Tom’s post on Instagram. It was of you two kissing while you held up your left hand; the classic proposal photo. “got engaged recently?”

“Yeah, I did.” His cheeks went red as his eyes found yours in the crowd.

“Congratulations. Can we bring Y/N up here?” The host asked and the audience cheered when you stood from your seat. Jimmy greeted you with a hug and you kissed Tom as you sat down next to him on the couch. “Let’s see the ring.”

“There we go.” Tom said proudly as you showed off your left hand to Jimmy, the audience, and the cameras.

“Did we get a good close up of it?” You joked.

“It’s so shiny, it’s hard to take a good picture.” Tom laughed. You casually rested your left hand on his leg and he covered your hand with his own.

“I heard a rumor that, Tom, you actually spoiled the surprise.” Jimmy said, “How did- how did you do that?”

“So we were doing a livestream interview, and I had been very secretive about proposing-“ Tom started.

“You were not secretive.” You teased. “You told everyone except for me.”

“That’s generally how proposals work.” Jimmy laughed.

“No, I’m talking about how fans knew he was going to propose. He would tell people in the grocery store, that kind of everyone.”

“I was excited and trying not to tell you.” Tom said, “It’s hard not being able to tell the person I tell everything to about something so exciting.”

“But anyway,” you continued the story, “He said during the livestream he’d just asked my sister for my ring size, and then he proposed when the cameras stopped rolling.”

“How sweet.” Jimmy commented.

“The cat was already out of the bag. It’s not like I could go back.” Tom joked.

“You two also just adopted a couple dogs, right?” Jimmy asked, pulling out another picture of you and Tom with your two rescue staffordshire puppies. The audience let out a series of awes at the photograph.

“So Hugo’s the fawn colored one and Marley’s the white one.” Tom stated.

“What kind of breed are they again?”

“They’re both English Staffordshire bull terriers. Tom’s got one named Tessa and she’s such a sweetheart. But we did an interview with puppies for Buzzfeed and decided we needed to get a dog.” You explained.

“And then we couldn’t choose just one so we got two.” Tom laughed.

“They’re our babies.” You joked, feeling Tom’s finger brush over the ring on your left hand which made you smile.

[justthehiddleswrites]

Trivia Night | Stephen Strange x Reader

Pairing:  Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary:  Stephen can’t pass up music trivia night at a local dive bar. But what should have been a landslide win is a bitter battle. Has Stephen met his match in more ways than one?

Warnings: drinking (not underage)

-

Stephen stopped in front of the non-descript bar. A colorful banner hung against the faded brick facade. Music Trivia Night Every Thursday!

“Well, don’t mind if I do.” he commented to himself as he ducked in.

Bodies crowded the small bar. The smell of smoke still clung to the walls despite the smoking ban. He noticed the groups gathering around tables with buzzers. He approached the nearest group.

“Mind if I join you guys for trivia night?”

A somewhat rotund man who came up to only Stephen’s shoulder pushed up his wire-rimmed glasses.

“Are you any good?” he questioned.

“Try me.” Stephen smirked.

“What was the flip side of the last number one hit for the Beatles?”

“The last number one of the Beatles was The Long and Winding Road…” The man smirked as he turned. “…For You Blue is the flip side.”

The smirk disappeared and was soon replaced with a huge smile. The man extended his hand.

“Welcome to the team. Name’s Matt.”

Stephen shook his hand. “Stephen.”

The group did quick introductions as Stephen took a seat and one guy handed him a beer. Stephen sipped, grimaced at the bitter, watered down domestic beer. He pushed the glass and flagged down a server to order a more suitable craft ale.

“With you we might stand a chance.” Matt joked.

“Yeah, perhaps you are the one who can take down The Terminator.” another guy called Chris chimed in.

“The Terminator?” Stephen glanced around the bar to see if someone who was a worthy opponent to his own mind. “Can you see him?”

“She sets up by the moderator.” Matt gestured to one side of the tiny room.

Stephen’s eyebrows rose in interest. A woman? He chuckled to himself at his luck. He felt more confident than ever as the event started.

“Okay everyone, let’s get started!” The emcee’s voice reverberated against the brick walls. “Welcome to Music Mania, where the points and the answers matter.”

Stephen zoned out as the emcee read over the rules and prizes of the night. He had half a mind to use his powers to see the outcome, but what was the point, he always won when it came to music.

“Round 1!” the words punched through his thoughts and brought him back to reality.

Everyone playing hunched over their tables, ready at the buzzer.

“Question 1: The band Duran Duran is named after a character in what movie?”

As Stephen moved to slam the buzzer he overheard BZZZZ!

“Terminator?”

A soft voice lilted through the air. “Barbarella.”

Stephen banged the table with his fists. “I knew that one.”

“Sure you did.” Chris muttered off to the side, nursing his Miller Lite bottle.

“I can go to another table.” Stephen hooked his thumb over his shoulder.

“Not necessary, Stephen. Can I call you Steve?” Matt questioned.

“I prefer Stephen.” He took a long draw on his bottle. “What’s the matter with your friend?”

Chris shifted in his seat, glaring at Stephen. “I’d rather not say.”

“The Terminator shot him down. And now he is bitter.” The rest piped up.

Stephen resisted the urge to chuckle. “You’re mad at me because you got rejected? I like this girl more already.”

“Listen—” Chris started in.

“Question 2: What year was Frank Zappa admitted to the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame?”

Stephen slammed the buzzer with lightening speed to hit it first.

“At the back?” the emcee asked.

“1995.” Stephen smirked, confident in his answer.

“Correct! Looks like you have some competition out there, Terminator. What’s your name back there?” The emcee shaded his eyes.

“T-3000.”

A smattering of chuckles and gasps came across the room. You popped your head up to see who dare to challenge you. Your eyes met a tall, goateed man sitting at the back. He winked and smiled at you. Scowling, you sat back down.

“This means war.” you whispered to yourself.

The emcee shrugged. “Looks like we have ourselves an actual competition. Onward and upward!”

The two of you steel yourselves for the next question.

“Question 3: Which country singer adopted the alter ego Luke the Drifter?”

You hit the button so hard it jumped on the table.

“Terminator?”

“Hank Williams.”

“Can you be more specific?”

You rolled your eyes. “Hank Williams, Sr.”

“Correct!”

You turned to see Stephen grumbling and grousing to his tablemates. You smiled. It was rare you had competition in trivia; the adrenaline was pumping.

“Question 4: What was the second music video to air on MTV?”

Stephen buzzed in first. “Video Killed the Radio Star by the Buggles!”

“Oh, that is incorrect!” the emcee hissed.

You buzzed. “I believe that was the first video. The second was Run to You by Pat Benatar.”

“Correct!”

“Shit!” Stephen yelled, and you noticed the sound of beer mugs clattering as he hit the table.

“Next time, listen more!” you taunted.

“Eyes forward.” he retorted.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I believe there is a rivalry. Let’s play on! Question 5: Who was the oldest artist to top the UK charts?”

The two of you hesitated for a moment before Stephen buzzed in. “Louis Armstrong in 1968 for What a Wonderful World.”

“Show off!” you bellowed.

“I believe that answer earns a bonus point.” the emcee responded with a smile.

“You’ve never given me bonus points!” you stood in protest.

“You have never given an answer like that. Looks like you have met your match.”

“More like my next victim.”

“The way you go through men that is probably accurate.”

“Next question, please.”

Stephen couldn’t hear the animated conversation between you and the emcee, but he spied your growing frustration. It pleased him to no end. He found himself more and more enchanted with you.

“Question 6: Which 80s song was re-released in the UK in 1991 and went straight to number 1? Name the artist and the song.”

You got to the buzzer first.

“The Clash. Should I Stay or Should I Go.” You replied.

“Correct!”

The rounds continued to bounce back and forth like an excited ping pong match. The entire bar invested in the match with all the other teams dropping out to spectate. People took sides cheering and jeering. The room buzzed with electricity. By the time the regular round ended, you and Stephen were tied.

“For the first time, we have a tie!” Everyone cheered. “Can I have the two competitors come to the front?”

Stephen rose and made his way to the stage at the front. You settled onto an uncomfortable stool. Stephen meanwhile looked perfectly at home as he folded up his long limbs to take a seat. You ignored the growing tightness in your chest as you gazed upon him.

“Now for the tiebreaker question. Terminator, T-3000, grab your pen and paper. Question: Of the over 600 songs Elvis sang, how many did he write? You have 15 seconds. Closest to the answer wins.”

The entire bar erupted into the Jeopardy theme as the two of you wrote down your answers. You placed your paper in your lap confident. Stephen winked at you from the barstool on the other side of the makeshift stage.

“Okay, time’s up. Terminator your answer.”

You flipped your paper to reveal the number zero.

“And T-3000?”

Stephen revealed an answer of thirteen.

“And the winner is…” The emcee bounced his head between you and Stephen. “… Terminator! She guessed right with zero!”

You pumped your fists in the air and did a little victory dance. Your hips shimmied back and forth. The motion hypnotized Stephen. In that moment, he decided.

“Excuse me.” He tapped you on the shoulder.

You spun to come face to face with your closest competitor. “You’re taller than I expected.” You extended a hand. “No hard feelings?”

He shook your hand with a firm grip. “On the contrary, I am delighted to find someone who meets my own knowledge of music. Tell me how do know so much.”

Your gazed dropped as you shuffled your feet. “My dad was a bit of a savant for music. We would talk about it every Sunday over breakfast. I was a sponge.”

Stephen smiled softly. “That is a charming story. Perhaps I could hear another one sometime. Maybe over dinner this week?”

Your head snapped up to meet his gaze. You stared into his ice-blue eyes.

“That sounds nice, uhh…”

“Stephen Strange. Dr. Stephen Strange.”

You introduced yourself.

“Pleasure. So what do you say Tuesday at 7?”

“I think I can swing that.” you croaked back.

“Until then.”

“I look forward to hearing some stories from you too.”

Stephen chuckled. “Yeah about that…”

[kyber-kisses]

Through A Mothers Eyes (Part 3)

Dean Winchester x Reader

Wanna start from the beginning? Here is the masterlist!

Warnings: crack, cursing, idiots to lovers trope (that good shit)

Summary: When Mary meets Deans closest and best friend, she cant help but see the chemistry between them. . .but she might be the only one as well.

A/n: Its back! It took me awhile to motivate myself to write the next chapter, but I did it! I hope you enjoy and feedback is greatly appreciated! (gif made by rainbow-motors)

If Mary thought living in a bunker with her two sons and you was chaotic. . . She was definitely not prepared at all for what game night meant. Not. One. Bit.

It was like a fucking war zone.

Halfway through Jenga she almost expected you and Dean to slap on some war paint, she had never seen such competitive people before in her life.

And then you brought out Uno.

“Fuckin demolish him Cas!” You yelled, hands planted firmly on the table as you watched the angel and hunter slap down colored cards furiously. You, Sam, and Mary had all lost already, resulting in you being Cas’s new hype man.

“Y/N, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

“There are no sides in Uno, Dean!”

“Then why the hell are you cheering on Cas?!” Dean slapped down another card. The two were almost running out of cards to play that it hit the point where Sam had to start shuffling the played cards so they could continue. “As your best friend let me just say; I find that insulting.”

“False. Cas is actually my best friend.” You responded bluntly, raising your hand to connect it with the angels in a loud high five.

Dean paused to narrow his eyes in your direction. “. . . Anyways, as your best friend- I’m telling you, you can’t pick sides.”

“Oh and where pray tell did you get that idea from?”

“The best friend rule book.”

You laughed. “Oh yeah, let’s whip that one out and crack it open, I’d love to read it!” You paused, turning to his mother with a soft smile. “I’m so sorry you have to witness this. He’s just a pain in my ass.”

Resting her chin in her hand, Mary returned the smile, still mildly amused at what was playing out in front of her. “I can tell. But I’m pretty sure he’s a pain in everyone’s butt.”

Deans mouth popped open in shock as his lips momentarily failed at trying to form words. “Now you’re taking her side too?!”

“I mean-“ you paused, flicking your hair over your shoulder. “I am fucking amazing. Plus, your mom just knows who the cooler person is out of the two of us-“

“Oh you little-“ dean growled, rolling up his sleeves after slapping his cards down on the table.

“Is this really necessary?” Cas muttered, eyes still on his cards and clearly trying to plan his next move.

“Oh you fuckin know it.”

“Maybe your mom should just adopt me. I could replace you! I am way more fun!” You laughed, backing up as Dean slowly rose from his seat. “Plus, you’re moms way more cool than you.” You joked, eyes lighting up when you looked at Dean and saw him moving towards you. You maneuvered around the table, the two of you moving back and forth as you tried to dodge Dean, trying to keep the table between you.

“You’re such an asshole!”

“You know it baby.” Shooting him a wink you ducked behind Sam's large frame, using him as a shield.

“Oh no- don’t go bringing me into this.” Sam tried, shaking his head as you gripped his shoulders.

“Just hold him off for me will ya?”

“And what do I get in return?”

“. . . the next time its your turn for a supply run, ill do it.”

A pause. “Deal.”

“Sam!”

The younger Winchester shrugged as he held out his arms, stopping Dean from reaching you. “What? Y/Ns more negotiable that you are.”

You let out a cackle before standing on your top toes to press a firm kiss to Sams cheek. “Thanks Samantha!”

You took off down the hallway before Dean could even attempt to move Sam. The younger Winchester continuing to block his brother as he tried to move past him. After a moment Dean gave up, falling back into his seat. “Alright, fine. I admit defeat. . .you can put your arms down..”

“If I do are you gonna go kill her?”

“. . . Maybe.”

“Dean!” Mary hissed, shaking her head at her sons antics.

“What? She’s a pain in the ass!”

Mary only shook her head again. That was until Cas spoke up again. “Am I supposed to say Uno?”

*. *. *. *. *. *.

The rest of the night became much calmer after that, you and Dean were back to your usual shenanigans and held up in the Dean cave watching some old western, Sam had headed off to bed because apparently you and Dean “drain his energy” Or whatever. Cas was for some reason still up cataloging some of the bunkers lore. As for mother Winchester, she found herself seated at the kitchen table, reading a book you had lent her a little over a week ago.

Mary almost didn’t see you walk in at first, with most of the lights still off it was like darkened hallway spit you out. Hands in the pockets of your sweatpants you quietly trudged into the room, pausing at the sight of Mary.

“You liking the book?”

Mary looked up, a small smile gracing her lips at the sight of you. “Yes I am, thank you for lending it to me.”

“No problem. Honestly it was just sitting on my desk collecting dust. I read it and never picked it up again” You admitted with a shrug. Walking past her, you filled your empty glass at the sink before moving back and lowering yourself into the seat across from her. “I’m sorry about earlier. Deans and Is energy can be a little overwhelming at times.”

“You don’t need to apologize. If anything I should be thanking you.” She closed her book, folding her arms over the surface of the table.

“What for?”

Mary let out a sigh. “Even if I haven’t been back for very long, it’s easy to see the effect you have on Dean. He’s happier when you're around, you get him to laugh more than anyone else here.”

“I think you're just seeing his slow decent into insanity.” You chuckled, looking down at your folded hands. “I’m told I have that effect on people.”

“Oh I don’t think that’s true.”

You opened your mouth to answer but stopped when you looked past Mary, eyebrow instantly raising. “What?”

Mary turned in her seat, her eyes finding her oldest son standing in the darkened doorway, your blue blanket wrapped around him. Dean narrowed his eyes at you. “You left me.”

“. . . I’m sorry?”

He stepped down into the kitchen, eyes still glazed over with a slight sleepiness. “It was rude.”

“You were asleep! I didn’t want to wake you up!” You threw your hands in the air, unable to believe the man sinking down into the vacant seat next to you. He yawned, his head falling against your shoulder as he closed his eyes.

“But by your didn’t have to leave me by myself. I woke up and you were gone.”

You rolled your eyes, hand coming up to pat the side of his head. “You poor baby, whatever shall you do now?”

“Mmm haven’t gotten that far yet.”

“Did you really just come in here to fall asleep on me again? Just go to bed Dean.”

“Don’t wanna.” He sighed, wrapping your blanket tighter around him.

“I swear you like a five year old.”

“I am not.”

“You totally are.” You paused. “But seriously Dean, go to bed. I ain’t dragging you down the hallway to your room when you fall asleep on me again.” You gave him another pat before standing up put your now empty glass in the sink, having practically chugged it moments before.

Groaning once more, Dean slowly blinked his eyes open and turned his attention to his mother. “What are you still doing up? I thought you went to bed.”

“Couldn’t sleep, thought I’d stay up and read instead. Y/N lent me a book to read.”

Turning his head to look between you and his mom he shook it in disbelief. “God, I live with a bunch of nerds.”

“Dean you can’t say anything about that. You're like the biggest nerd out of all of us.”

“. . . Shut up. Plus, you're no better. If anything I'm this way because of you.”

“Sure, Jan. You keep telling yourself that.”

Dean paused when he looked back over to his mom, seeing a soft smile on her features. “What?”

“Just the two of you-“

“What about the two of us?” He questioned, sliding the blanket off of his shoulders as he stood up before folding it and handing it back to its rightful owner.

“I just- I think you two would make a cute couple.”

There was a pause as the two of you looked at each other.

“Me? . . .And her?” Dean threw a thumb over his shoulder in your direction.

“Me and Dean?”

Another pause. And then a light laugh was bubbling up from both of your throats- before quickly turning into full bellied laughter. Dean had his hands planted on his knees and your head was thrown back as you grabbed at you gut. The two of you quickly dissolving into fits of hysteria. It went on for a good minute before starting to fizzle out.

Ahaha! Whew-“ Dean chuckled, wiping the tears from his eyes as he stood up properly again. “That- that was good.”

“Oh god-“ you bent over, hands still on your sides. “My gut hurts- I haven’t laughed like that in awhile.” You panted.

“Yeah, thank you for that mom.” Dean patted his mother’s shoulder as he passed. “That just made my entire day.”

Once you had mostly regained your composure, you took a deep breath. “Okay, well as much fun as that was- I’m gonna go to bed. Goodnight Mary, Dean.” Giving gone last nod you stepped into the hallway along with Dean, the two of you connecting your palms in a loud high five before walking off in separate directions.

Meanwhile Mary sat silently at the table, the only thing running through her mind being what the fuck just happened?

SPN Taglist (Still open!)

@familybusinesswritingbro​@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti​ @callmekda​ @jordangdelacruz​ @orphiceseum​ @andthatsmyworld​ @marvelfangirllll​ @fandomnerdespressourself​ @gladiosamicitias​ @castielsangelsx​ @lxstgxrl-ck​ @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff​ @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl  @totallyluciferr​ @supernaturalenchanted​ @dolanfivsosxox@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts​ @akshi8278 @defenderrosetyler​ @heyyy-hey-babyyy​ @supernaturalenchanted@emptycanvasposts @vicmc624 @all-will-be-well-love@busy-bee-angel-misska @starsandmidnightblue​ @lilulo-12fanfiction @beanie-beebo​ @xoxoaudreymarie​ @greenarrowhead​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​  @mysticalfuncollectorus​ @brebolin​ @biahblue​ @noahandthegiraffe​ @hhiggs​​ @mila-dans​

[tardis-stowaway]

Ten years after the Not-pocalypse, Adam Young, age 21 and recently graduated from university:

-Works in a crappy retail job and lives in a tiny, crappy flat in London

-The crappy flat has no sound insulation, so he’s always hearing the absurd amount of movement from the people in the flat above and the really loud but not quite intelligible conversations from the people in the flat next door. It’s a long way to the nearest public park, and he misses the green of home.

-Is not all that good at his customer service job, with the exception that if a customer is irrationally angry about something, he says he wants to make sure he understands the problem and repeats their complaint back to them with this look in his eyes, and they universally back down and often apologize. His coworkers love him for it. Everything else is just drudgery.

-Single, despite his best efforts. Okay, maybe not his best efforts, but some efforts.

-Knows that his childhood was uncommonly idyllic at least partly due to his powers. He’s not entirely sure how his life went quite so off the rails lately.

-Maybe his powers have faded gradually since he rejected his destiny, or maybe it’s just that on some level he absorbed the expectation that being in one’s early 20’s means being broke and a little lost, and the expectation made it happen whether he wanted it or not.

-Or maybe he just should’ve chosen a more employable course of study at uni instead of comparative religion. In his defense, it seemed relevant to his life.

-Spends much of his free time on climate crisis activism. He’ll be damned (ha) if he stood against the forces of Heaven and Hell, the Four Horsepeople of the Apocalypse, and his own birthright to preserve the continuing existence of humanity on the Earth only for humans to blunder into destroying themselves unintentionally through greed and shortsighted decisions.

-He’s been doing this since he was twelve, when Brian sent the Them’s group text an article about the group Extinction Rebellion with the caption “named for us?? :)” Adam had laughed, then actually read the article. Within a week he’d convinced the Them and a dozen of their classmates to show up at the next town council meeting with a list of sustainability demands.

-No matter how many civil disobedience events he takes part in, he never seems to get arrested. Adam suspects it’s his supernatural entity privilege. Pepper says it’s probably mostly that he’s white and great at charming his way out of trouble.

-He’s still friends with all of the Them, but they don’t live especially close together. He does have a flatmate, an American who Adam met at uni.

-At this point you, a genre-savvy reader of much Good Omens fic and meta, are probably seeing the word “American” and thinking that Adam is flatmates with Warlock Dowling. For once, you are wrong. 

-Adam’s flatmate is Jesus.

-Not Jesus Christ, but a young man named Jesus Dominguez, pronounced the Spanish way (like hay-soos).

-Jesus is from Southern California, and he talks more than a little bit like a surfer stereotype. He’s got warm brown skin, shoulder-length dark hair in perpetually-mussed waves, and a little beard. He’s kinda leaning into the look  to mess with people, but it’s also the same style found on at least a third of the other male-presenting hipsters in London.

-When he learned that he was going to share a flat with someone named Jesus, Adam called Crowley and Aziraphale. He’s never been gladder that he stayed in touch with them, because he NEEDED someone who understood how the Antichrist and Jesus sharing a flat sounded like the setup for a joke or a sitcom. Crowley did indeed laugh out loud, then told Adam that as a fellow lapsed member of the forces of Hell, he could personally recommend sharing quarters with a heavenly adversary. Aziraphale just muttered “oh, stop” at Crowley.

-Adam moved to London because it was easier to get to the important protests there, and because he was curious. He spent the first six months desperately homesick for Tadfield. The city was so crowded but somehow he still felt so alone, other than Jesus.

-Then a midnight fire-alarm in their building sent him and Jesus into the streets along with dozens of their neighbors. Adam finally met the people in the flat above theirs who made all that moving around noise. They were an older couple who took ballroom dancing lessons at the senior center and liked to practice at home. Mrs. Kapoor tried to teach Adam how to foxtrot right there on the pavement in the middle of the night. He stepped on her feet, but since he was in bare feet and she’d actually taken the time to find shoes it wasn’t a big deal.

-Meanwhile Jesus was finally talking to the loud young men from next door. By the time Adam wandered over, Jesus had learned their names (Leon, Seamus, and Nazim) and secured an invitation for the two of them to come over to watch Saturday’s football match, and to join their next D&D campaign (“just no more  paladins,” said Nazim). Adam looked forward to finding out whether it was the D&D or the football that was the cause of more yelling.

-As the evacuation stretched on with no hint of either actual fire or clearance to go back inside, the building’s children began to get fussy. Adam found a coin on the ground (successfully picking it up, because Crowley didn’t make it to this neighborhood very often) and proceeded to distract them with stage magic.

-He initially learned stage magic from Aziraphale, but he’s better at it than the angel ever was. He hardly cheats physical reality at all. The kids love it.

-When the fire department finally gives them the clearance to go back inside, Adam’s stomach rumbles. “Is anyone else hungry?,” he asks, to a chorus of agreement. It’s too late for any nearby takeout, but Jesus chats with their neighbors about options.

-Jesus enlists Adam’s help in going from flat to flat gathering ingredients from everyone, and before long they’re serving fish tacos and grilled cheese sandwiches to a small crowd of pajama-clad people. It’s 2 am, but everyone is smiling, or at least has contentment at the edge of their yawns.

-The next day, Mrs. Kapoor brings Adam and Jesus a spider plant cutting, because she thought their flat looked too bare. Adam texts a picture of it to Crowley and receives back lengthy instructions on watering, pot size, soil, and the most effective threats for the species.

-Five months later, the local planning council has an intense debate about why crime rates in one neighborhood have dropped by 75% since their last meeting. They each try to claim credit for their pet civic projects. Actually, it’s because Adam Young has started to love London, or at least his nook of it.

-Buskers soon realize that certain tube stops are generating far more tips than they ever have before, with no obvious demographic shift accounting for the change. The common ground is that these are the stops on Adam’s commutes to work and his activist meetings. He can only occasionally spare a tip himself, but his enjoyment of the music is contagious.

-Even after the breakthrough, not every day is good. On a late summer day that just happens to be the anniversary of the day the world didn’t end, Adam comes home from a protest fuming.

-“Dude, you okay?” asks Jesus, looking up from his guitar. (Jesus sometimes goes to protests with Adam, but not usually the ones where they’re planning on breaking laws. “I’m a brown-skinned foreigner, man. Do you think I’ll get away with what you get away with? I’m not ready for that yet,” he says, and Adam can’t argue.)

-“The media barely showed up at our event, probably because it was about a million degrees and even though that’s exactly what we’re protesting, nobody wants to be out in it. Six of our people passed out from the heat and three got arrested. They still didn’t arrest me, but I got pushed over and cracked my phone screen. On my way home, some drunk on the tube vomited on my shoes. Our green jobs bill still doesn’t have the votes in Parliament, and have you seen the latest news on the Antarctic ice sheets?” Adam kicks off his shoes, then collapses dramatically onto the futon and groans.

-“Sounds rough,” says Jesus.

-“I should’ve just ended the damn world when I was eleven and I had the chance. Would’ve been quicker,” Adam mutters.

-Jesus gets up and goes to the kitchen. He brings Adam a beer. “You don’t mean that, bro,” he says.

-Adam sighs, accepting the beer. “I suppose not.”

-He drinks his beer. Dog, now grey-muzzled and slow, shuffles over to curl up at his feet. Adam pulls out his phone, which is cracked but still seems functional. He’s got a text from Aziraphale.

-“Dear Adam,” the text begins, because Aziraphale might have finally deigned to learn to text but he steadfastly refused to adopt its stylistic conventions, “I hope that you have returned safely from today’s protest. I’m very proud of your continuing efforts, and though he won’t admit it I know that Crowley feels the same. Please write back at your earliest convenience. Fondly, Aziraphale”

-Adam texts back to reassure the angel, who will doubtless pass it on to Crowley, then he texts similar reassurances to his parents and to Mrs. Kapoor upstairs. He’s still figuring out this adulthood thing, but he’s got a lot of parental figures looking out for him. His Infernal Bio-Dad isn’t one of them, and that’s the way Adam likes it.

-Through the open window comes the sound of music blasting from a car stuck in traffic below. Freddie Mercury and David Bowie are singing:

And love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night, And love dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves.

-He turned down the chance to rule the world, and he’d make the same choice again, but he still feels a certain proprietary responsibility towards the planet and its inhabitants. His father—his real, earthly father—didn’t raise him to shirk responsibility, and he’s not one to cave under pressure.

-Life is hard, people are mostly idiots, and the world is coming apart at the seams, but it’s his messed up life and his idiotic people and his beautiful, half-broken world.

[i-just-love-spop]

Of babysitting and (potential) kitchen fires [Chapter one]

Chapter two

Arrow loves auntie Catra and the bedtime stories she always tells about her adventures with auntie Adora and Arrow’s parents.

Catra might be enjoying babysitting a little too much.

Meanwhile, Adora is unsure whether or not she would be a good mother.

And Glimmer just really, really needs some sleep.

[Shameless post season five Adora and Catra both want kids but haven’t talked about it yet-fic that was supposed to be a one shot but isn’t anymore. Starring: the best friend squad, two Glow/Glimbow children, Melog, cuddling, a bit of angst and, of course, the best friend squad teasing each other.]

Disclaimer: This was originally posted on my Ao3, EleenaDume, which I would love to source, but tumblr is driving me insane and apparently one of the reasons why my posts might not show up in the tags could be external links, so I’m trying it again without the link. If you want to check if I’m really the same person, I’ve added this account to my list of other accounts on my Ao3-profile.

—

“That day, the most selfless girl in the galaxy learned that it was alright to choose herself for once – that it was the right choice to be selfish sometimes. And that’s how she saved the galaxy. The end.”

Catra clapped her hands together to empathize the ending of the story.

The little girl with the violet hair looked up at her. There was an excited glint in her eyes.

“Start over, I want to hear the story again! Please!”

Catra laughed as she ruffled the girl’s hair.

“Nice try, sweetie, but the time has come for little Arrow to go to sleep, because Queen Sparkles will show up soon and throw me out of your room if you don’t.”

Arrow pouted.

“Come on, auntie Catra. Just one more time. Auntie Adora can keep mom distracted in the meantime.”

The adult woman stroked the child’s head again and giggled softly. Damn, she really liked this kid.

“As much as I like the way you think, Glitter, your mom will end me if I keep you awake any longer. And I think she’s pert near issuing a decree about how much I get to talk about Adora here before I must be forcefully removed from the building at all costs,” She joked.

The child laughed.

“But mommy and dad are just as bad!”

“You’re the cheekiest girl in the entire universe. I’m so proud of you.” Catra hugged her gently. “Come on, little one. Time to sleep. I’ll tell you more stories tomorrow.”

Arrow squeaked happily, snuggled up to her aunt and caved.

“Okay, fine. But only if you promise.”

The adult smiled softly. Arrow was just about her favorite person in the entire universe – except for Adora, of course.

The remaining members of the best friend squad were pretty close behind, though.

“Of course. I promise, Glitter.”

She gently tucked the girl in the cupcake pajamas into bed.

“Wanna sleep lights on or lights off today?”

Glimmer and Adora watched Catra from the doorframe as she tugged Arrow in and then started singing her to sleep.

Adora was pretty close to melting into a puddle right then and there. Instead, she almost started crying and rubbed her wedding band nervously, all the universe’s love in her eyes in that very moment.

The scene alone was enough to turn her head all over again, and that wasn’t even including the fact that Catra’s singing was down right enchanting, and she would have happily listened to nothing but that for the rest of her life.

“Adora? ... Adora?” Her best friend gave her a gentle nudge. “Hey, Brightmoon to She-Ra, you in there?”

The blonde jerked extremely startled.

She’d been in a completely different world for the last couple of minutes.

“Yeah, uh, I was just-”

“Zoning out at Catra again. I know.” Adora went beet red. Glimmer winked at her and laughed softly. Despite her visible exhaustion, she still insisted on teasing her best friend. “I’m still surprised how good she is with kids. Arrow loves her to the stars and back.”

“Yeah, I know...”

She-Ra was still way too mesmerized by the scene to take her eyes off her wife and her niece.

“Have you two thought about it yet? You know, the... adoption thing we talked about?”

Well, that jerked the warrior princess back into reality, alright.

She turned away from Catra and Arrow, instead facing the wall across from the child’s room.

“I- we- uh-” she stammered. “I... don’t know. I think I’d be a terrible mom.”

Glimmer shook her head and looked at her best friend sternly.

“Why would you think that? That’s complete nonsense.”

“Well, I’m kind of a complete mess, and extremely chaotic and clumsy and- I tried cooking something recently, and then Catra hugged me from behind while I was doing it, and then my brain short-circuited and I almost burnt down the kitchen because I still can’t believe I’m married to Catra and it’s been ten years-” She was once again talking in that very Adora way where Glimmer wasn’t sure if she even took a single breath while sentence after sentence came out of her mouth in such a speed that it was hard to understand everything. “-and, I mean, I can’t take care of a child! I can barely take care of myself, and-”

Her best friend put her hands on the shoulders of the blonde.

“Adora. Breathe.”

“...right. That... That’s a... thing I should be doing.” She listened, took a couple of long-drawn-out breaths... and slowly, she started calming down again. “I’m sorry. It’s just... I don’t know if I would be a good mother.”

Glimmer smiled at her and pinched her cheek.

“Of course you would be a good mom. I mean, you’re not Catra, but you have watched Arrow before, and you were pretty good at it. And kids love you.”

Adora let out a long sigh.

“Yeah, maybe, but... I don’t know.”

“Hey, nobody’s forcing you to do anything, alright?” Glimmer hugged her. “If that’s not something you want, that’s perfectly fine. Kids aren’t for everyone, and you two are great together on your own. You don’t need kids to be happy.”

Adora shook her head.

“Yeah, no, I know, that... that’s not it. I... I actually think we would both like to have one, but.., the only mother figure we had back at the horde was Shadow Weaver, and I think we’re both afraid we could end up being the kind of parent she was. Catra more so than me.”

Glimmer stopped short.

That though alone seemed completely insane to her.

Adora was just about the nicest, kindest person she had ever met – except for maybe Bow –, while Shadow Weaver was most definitely cruelest, most manipulative asshole she could think of.

And while Catra’s story was... more complicated on that behalf, she still couldn’t imagine her being the kind of mother Shadow Weaver had been. Catra had learned from her mistakes, had overcome her fears and weaknesses and had become a better person along the way.

Shadow Weaver had never learned, never changed, and while her last moments had been a sacrifice, it had been one of cowardice more than one of courage.

A dead person didn’t have to face the mistakes she made. Didn’t have to deal with the people they hurt – the hate in their eyes and the words of anger, sadness and spite that would get thrown at them otherwise.

Catra had faced all that. She’d worked to complete exhaustion to rebuild the cities she’d helped destroy, and she’d went to the end of the galaxy and back to prove that she’d truly changed.

Despite that, some people hadn’t forgiven her, and they never would.

Some people still thought Adora deserved better, and that Catra was treating her badly and should be banished from the planet for good for everything she’d done.

That wasn’t happening... and Catra had learned to live with and accept what people thought of her. She knew she’d hurt others. And as much as she would have liked to turn back time to right her wrongs... she couldn’t.

What others thought of her wasn’t her choice to make. If she had hurt people too much for them to ever give her another chance, that was valid, and she accepted it.

It wasn’t her choice to make.

That made her a much bigger person than Shadow Weaver had ever been.

“Are you serious? Neither of you is anything like her, and you never will be. The way Catra treats Arrow, how she tucks her into bed and sings her to sleep... that’s something my mom used to do when I was little.” For a moment, there was a glint of sad melancholy in her eyes. “Mom would have loved Arrow. And Catra would have driven her absolutely bonkers... but if things hadn’t happened the way they did... I think she would have liked her too.”

Adora pulled her best friend into a hug.

“I...” She started, but Glimmer shook her head and interrupted he.

“Shadow Weaver wasn’t like this at all, was she?”

That was a pretty clear signal.

She didn’t want to talk or think about this any longer. At least not right now.

Adora could accept that and just continued on with the conversation as if nothing had happened.

That was part of their silent agreement when it came to talking about Angella.

“No, she wouldn’t have. Shadow Weaver was never the singing type.” She raised her hands and wagged her fingers in a silly imitation of a spell caster, hoping that would lift the mood again – at least a little. “She was more like ‘uuuuuh, I’m so evil and mean, and if you don’t go to sleep then the weeping princess will show up and murder you, or maybe I will, if you annoy me too much!’...”

She stuck out her tongue.

Glimmer giggled, and Adora joined in.

She could laugh about it today... at least a little.

That had been different for a long time.

“Hey Adora.” The two of them spun around. Apparently Arrow had fallen asleep by now, because Catra was now standing right next to them, the door closed behind her so they could speak loudly without waking the child up again. She looked at her wife all lovey-dovey for a moments then turned to Glimmer, grinned and bowed playfully. “Queen Sparkles, I humbly report your daughter has been put to bed and is asleep now.”

That earned her a gentle nudge against the shoulder from said queen, who rolled her eyes as she laughed.

“Why are you like this?”

Catra gave her a cheeky grin and winked at her.

“What can I say, it’s part of my charm.”

She then put an arm around her wife gently, who had finally stopped zoning out enough to properly greet her.

“Hey Kitty.”

Catra rolled her eyes.

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

Adora pulled her close and looked at her smugly.

“You love it when I call you that.”

“I do not.”

Their faces were now merely inches away from each other.

Truth be told, Catra had given up on ever getting rid of the nickname when Adora had used it for the first time several years ago.

By now, she was sure just about all of Etheria knew about the dumb nickname – that maybe, just maybe, did send a nice feeling of comfortable warmth through her body when Adora said it.

The annoyed facade she put up was nothing more than that – just part of their playful flirting.

Their kiss was unsatisfyingly short.

Adora broke away almost immediately, grimacing. She wiped her mouth.

“...why do you taste like glitter?”

Catra, who had been kind of irritated and hurt until now, started cackling.

“So I might have given the kid a goodnight kiss to the forehead when I tucked her in, sue me.” She turned to Glimmer. “Sparkles’ husband kisses her all the time – I wonder how he does it.”

Her friend and her wife joined in the laughing really soon.

“I’ll have to thank my daughter for finding the absolutely only method I can think of that can keep you two from constantly making out in front of me,” Glimmer chuckled, smiling to herself.

Those two were almost disgustingly cute.

Almost.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but there’s nothing in the entire universe powerful enough to keep our hands off each other for long,” Adora commented truthfully.

The Horde, a war, a collapsing reality and an army consisting of robots and the clones of an insane maniac hadn’t stopped them. Keeping them away from each other for long was a task that would have required something a lot more complicated than a little glitter.

She put her arm around her wife’s waist and kissed her cheek.

Glimmer had a hard time keeping herself from commenting the purring that ensued as the smile on her lips grew wider.

She just looked at the two of them silently for a while until she spoke up again.

“Oh, and Catra... thanks for babysitting. I really appreciate it a lot.”

Spending time with them was nice... but she also started to feel her exhaustion more with every passing minute and wanted nothing more than to just collapse into her bed and sleep for a small eternity... or at least for approximately an hour before she would be woken up again.

The thought alone made her head spin.

But she was really, really thankful.

Catra had been immensely helpful when it came to watching Arrow, especially during these past few weeks.

“Hey, you know I love the kid. Anytime.” The brunette smiled. “I forgot to ask... how was your meeting?”

“Please don’t ask.” The Queen of Brightmoon grimaced and shuddered slightly. “It dragged on forever, and I was so tired that I feel like I missed out on half of what was being said.”

Adora shrugged.

“She fell asleep halfway through the meeting. We voted on whether or not we should let her sleep. It was the only unanimous decision of the day.”

Catra chuckled.

“Seems like you might have to be put to bed just like your daughter, huh, your majesty?” She joked.

Glimmer rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Believe me, I wish it was that easy. Angie is an absolute nightmare. I mean, I love her, and I would do anything for her... but I swear, neither me nor Bow has slept more than two hours at a time in the last three weeks. The kid has incredible lungs. And Adora‘s sleep-wake rhythm.”

The pink-haired woman groaned.

Catra nudged her wife gently.

“We’re really missing out, huh?”

At least for the first few seconds, Adora was certain her wife was kidding... but there was something in her voice...

„Speaking of missing out... what would you say if we took the little one for tonight?“ Adora said as if out of the blue. You two really need sleep and some time to yourselves, and...” She looked at her best friend sincerely, then glanced towards Catra in a meaningful way. “What do you think, Glimmer?”

“...Adora, are you sure?”

She-Ra nodded energetically.

“Of course. And even know how to warm up milk without burning the kitchen down by now... I think.”

She gave them a pretty unconvincing smile and an even less convincing thumbs up.

Catra looked at her wife, eyebrow raised.

“Sweetheart, do all of us a favor and just wake me up, alright? I’m not in the mood for another three o’clock-shower by Mermista.”

“...Or I’ll just wake Catra,” Adora assured her, giving an affirmative nod and smiling at Glimmer. “Come on...”

“Okay. Alright. But if something goes wrong or you need anything or-”

Adora put a hand on her shoulder and raised an eyebrow.

“Now you’re the one who needs to remember how to breathe.”

Glimmer closed her eyes and nodded as she calmed down. Sometimes she really worried too much – especially when it came to her children.

She understood her mother much better these days.

“We’ll manage, Sparkles. Don’t overthink it so much. You really need sleep, damn it.”

Catra nudged her gently.

Glimmer smiled softly as she flung her arms around her two best friends.

“You two are such disasters. I love you so much...”

“Awwww. We love you, too.”

Adora was her usual, hug-loving self.

Catra was still a little tense when being touched by anyone but Adora, but it had been a long time since she’d last flinched back, and she was able to enjoy the gentle gesture of affection much more nowadays.

“Come on, Sparkles. We can go save your husband, and you two can get a good night’s sleep for once, how does that sound?”

“Alright. I’m in.” The Queen of Brightmoon smiled softly at her two best friends. “And – potential kitchen fires aside –, I’m sure you’ll do great.”

A/N: Thank you for reading, feedback would be appreciated a lot!

The second chapter will be much more heavy on Glimbow content.

[thotsforvillainrights]

PLEASE IF YOU HAVE TIME Maybe could do a little scenario of baby Kai? Like he was hitted by a quirk and the baby is all fussy but is like hearted eyes to his S/o 😗👉👈

(The tiiiiiimmmeeeeee???? Yes lol! Actually it’s 2 a.m but I stopped fighting my insomnia and just roll with it until I pass out. Anyway, yes I have the time for this one lol. Besides, I love a cute Kai scenario🥰)

~Oh Baby!~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up 

Todays work held a bit more difficulty than previously intended. Kai was slowly but surely down the path to becoming a better man. With that, he had to find ways to keep the yakuza a well known name rather than letting it fizzle out. To repay Pops was his main goal of course. Through this, he made it progress towards a more honorable path (with a little gangster still mixed in of course). With that tiny bit of crime slowly working its way out of the organization, there came the immediate problem of turf wars and cutting out previous business partners in exchange for charity and community work. 

Today was certainly more than they could chew on.

Nemouto was furiously pushing the gang back after a meltdown in negotiations when attempting to break out of one of their biggest and longest drug partnerships. Mimic was navigating the lower part of the group and Chrono was blocking the sides while Kai attempted to push them away from a distance using his quirk. “You think you can just drop us just like that?! You’re a disgrace to the yakuza and you deserve nothing but death for dishonoring them!” The rival boss shouted from above Kai as he levitated with his quirk to avoid the sharp spikes coming at him. 

“I would be a disgrace no matter what path I chose! At least down this new pathway, I will ensure the continuation on the Yakuza and the Shie Hassaikai no matter what!” He slapped the ground one good time and shifted a spike straight through the heart of the rival leader. Meanwhile Chrono shouted from his right side “Boss, on you left!!!” Before Kai could even get full view of what was happening, there was a bright flash of light and he was out cold. Luckily the other gang was beaten so bad they retreated, and without a leader they would eventually fall out of power soon. Meanwhile, Kai’s men gathered around him and stared down as he slept. “Ah fuck...who’s gonna take this one?” Mimic looked up at Chrono and Nemouto. “Not it!” Hari shouted before going to find Rappa, Hojo, Deidoro, and the others on the end of the destroyed area. Nemouto sighed and carefully picked up what was left of the boss. In his arms now lay a sleeping Infant wrapped up in Kai’s over sized clothing, no doubt a result of the quirk that shot him. Luckily the user that attacked Kai with it was promptly taken care of by a single bullet. Now all that was left was to take him back to you without waking him up and hope you’ll take over the situa-

“Holy fuck that was a good brawl!!! Aye, who’s baby is that?!?!?!” Rappa shouted loudly as he arrived. “Rappa you idiot! You woke it up!” Tengai scolded him as baby Kai shifted in Nemouto’s arms. His golden eyes popped open and he pouted before scrunching his face up and crying LOUDLY. Everyone glared at Rappa as they loaded up in the cars and tried to get baby Kai back to you as fast as possible. Once they made it to the upper base (the house), and explained everything to you, they went to the lower parts of the base, clocked out, and left the mess for you and Pops to handle. Pops held baby Kai up and inspected him while you made a makeshift diaper out of whatever fabric you could find. Meanwhile, his loud crying was reminding you of why you weren’t ready to have/adopt kids just yet. “When I asked for new blood around here, this is not quite what I meant!” Pops shouted over the crying boy. “I know!” You replied as you crossed the room to put the diaper on Kai. As soon as Pops passed him into your arms, Kai immediately went silent. “Oh no, did I break him?” You began to panic and Pops laughed. “No! But it appears he’s got a good liking to you. I suppose that quirk that hit him didn’t change too much.” Pops smiled and watched the way Kai’s eyes widened and sparkled while he looked at you. The old man almost got sad thinking about how long it’s been since he saw his own daughter and held her like that when she was a baby. You noticed his distress and held Kai up to him. “Try to hold him again Pops. He seemed to calm down now.” You directed him. As soon as Pops touched Kai’s sides, the baby started to scream and cry once again. When you pulled him away, he garbled baby talk and clenched his hands up at you. You rolled your eyes and kissed his tiny head. “I guess babies aren’t so bad when they aren’t crying.” You joked making Pops chuckle from behind you. 

“Since you have the gall to say that, I suppose I can request some grand-kids again without Chisaki pushing me out of the room?” Pops teased and you rolled your eyes. “Well, maybe someday. For now, I have to take care of this one until the quirk wears off.” You smiled at Kai and watched his sleepy golden eyes shut peacefully. 

»—————————–———————————————————–✄

TIp Jar: https://cash.app/$YuTakeyama

[supergirl-fanfiction]

Oblivious

Lena Luthor x Reader

Requested by- @zhellas​

Gender Unspecified!Reader, during their first week at Lexcorp (entry-level position of some sort), keep running into a really nice supervisor named Lena and they have friendly conversations about work, the company, life, etc.. Lena Luthor likes having the honest conversations with the Reader as they appreciate that quality in them, the Reader is pretty cute, and also she’s super amused that they somehow don’t know who she is

(Y/N)- Your Name

(L/N)- Last Name

Warnings- None that I can think of

A/N- So I didn't do this prompt exactly how it was suppose to be done but I hope you still enjoy it.

You were extremely excited. Today was your first day at Lexcorp and even though you were really only a glorified intern you didn't mind. You were just happy to get your foot in the door. I mean you had to start somewhere right? Right. You nodded to yourself before walking into the building. You were looking around trying to remember where exactly you had been told to go to. You bit your lip nervously and began to look around slightly confused. Of course you would get so excited to be here that you would forget where you were suppose to show up at. You were looking around for a couple of minutes before a woman walked over to you. You immediately felt your heart skip a beat. It should be illegal for someone to look so good in a suit.

"You seem lost, can I help you?" She asked you. You gave a small embarrassed smile as a chuckle escaped your lips.

"Um yea I'm (Y/N) (L/N), I just got hired. I uh got a little too excited because todays my first day and completely forgot where I was suppose to be going." You stammered slightly as you could feel the blush forming on your cheeks. She let out a small, quiet laugh.

"Well (Y/N) I'm Lena and I know where you are suppose to be headed. I actually just came from there. Would you like me to show you?" She seemed somewhat hesitant to ask you that. You didn't mind at all though. You were happy that she was willing to help you out.

"That would actually be amazing Lena. Thank you." She looked somewhat shocked that you accepted. You didn't know why. I mean why would anyone turn down an offer that would help you.

"Lead the way oh gracious Lena." You said in a joking manner. She let out a laugh and shook her head at you.

"You know most people don't joke around with me like that. It's kind of like a breath of fresh air." Lena told you before turning around and heading in the direction she had just come from. You titled your head to the side slightly wondering why before realizing you should probably follow her. You quickly jogged up to her.

"Why is that? It is because you're one of the big bosses or something? I mean if you are then I meant absolutely no disrespect by my comment." You began to ramble on. She put her hand on your arm to stop you and looked at you in complete disbelief.

"You honestly have no idea who I am do you?" She asked you. You shook your head.

"No I'm sorry I don't. Should I?"A small frown appeared on your face as you looked at her again. She did look somewhat familiar but you had no idea from where. A small smile appeared on her face as she shook her head before continuing on taking you where you were suppose to go. That was basically how your whole week went. You would run into Lena and talk with her for a little bit about anything and everything. You had learned that she had been adopted, she was insanely smart, she loved to travel and been to almost all of Europe, she usually ate very healthy but every once in a while she would spoil herself with a good juicy burger, she had the biggest heart out of everyone you knew, she didn't get along with her adoptive family too much, she used to compete in fencing and was extremely talented, and so much more. Every time after you two talked though people would give you weird and judgmental looks. At least you had thought they were directed at you until you finally decided to confront some people about it.

"Ok seriously what did I do to you guys. Every time I talk to Lena you guys give me nasty looks." The people looked at you shocked. They looked around trying to make sure Lena wasn't around not realizing that she was right around the corner listening into the conversation. She almost wanted to stop it from happening because she was certain after this that you would no longer talk to her and she had enjoyed talking with you and becoming friends.

"(Y/N), those looks aren't for you they're for the Luthor." You frowned slightly before looking at them.

"But I don't talk to Lex Luthor. I only talk to Lena and yea she's like one the bigger bosses or whatever she is. I actually don't know what she does huh. Anyways not the point. The point is that I don't talk to Lex Luthor. I only ever talk to Lena." You shrugged as if to prove your point. They all looked at you dumbfounded.

"Um (Y/N) do you even know what Lenas last name is?" You shook your head.

"Does it really matter? Lenas cool. I mean you should hear about all the cool places she's been and all the cool stuff she has done. It makes me want to join a mission trip or something." You told them with a small fond smile on your face.

"She's a Luthor (Y/N). Her last name is Luthor. Did you honestly not know this whole time that she is Lena Luthor Lex Luthor's younger sister?" Your eyes widened in surprise. Now you realized why she didn't get along too well with her adoptive family. A lot of other things she had told you also made more sense now.

"Well I mean that doesn't really matter. Lena is cool." You said with a shrug before walking away from them. Meanwhile Lena stood where she had been eavesdropping in shock. You hadn't even hesitated before just stating that her last name didn't matter and walking away. Now if she could only gain the courage to tell (Y/N) about the feelings she had begun to develop for them.

[kirishimas-manly-eyeliner]

Okay feel free to ignore this if you want it’s kinda just a huge rant thing about me thinking that my brothers might be racist so uh yeah, debated on being on anon for thsi or not for like ten minutes cause there some real personal stuff here. Kinda been bottling this up for a while and for some reason you seem like a good person to tell it to.

Tw cursing btw

So I’m white, might be a little sprinkle of Cuban but honestly have no idea besides that I’m white as hecc. I have four brothers, I’m also adopted, but because when I was adopted my biological brother wasn’t adopted too because he was already a adult. But my biological brother (just gonna call him bb if I refer to him again) is not white, we have different dads. I’m very much white and he’s black? I don’t really know, never asked and didn’t really see it as something important. I love him for him, his skin color never mattered in that. But if I had to describe it he’s a lighter black, maybe Arabic or Cuban? And most of my friends throughout my whole time living where I do, most of my friends are black, or Hispanic. So, as you can assume, I have lots of sympathy for POC. I have no idea what it’s like and try to support my friend any time they are put down for their skin color. (I may or may not have punch a kid once cause he said a friend of mine was disgusting and should “go back to her sick country” cause she’s a Muslim, apparently the kids grandpa died in 9/11 so liek I guess I can see where it’s from but like, dude……)

So I have three other brother, live with two of them cause the other moved out for college. So, now to the two brother might be racist part. Prepare to be pissed off 👍 /hj . So, when all the protests started at the begging of quarantine, my family talked a bit about it cause we had nothing else to do.

and these two straight, cis, white teens had the damn arrogance to BOTH say that they were “bullied for being white” and yeah, one of them was bullied very bad as a kid, but like??????? No?????? Just, no????? You are a cisgender white straight man????????? Who is considered attractive by most of your peers?????? YOU ARE NOT BULLIED, THERE MIGHT HAVE BEEN TIME WHERE SOMEONE TRIED TO SHAKE SOME SENSE INTO YOUR ASS THAT YOU LITERALLY ARE THE MOST PRIVILEGED PEOPLE IN AMERICA SINCE THE FUCKING BEGINNING AND YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO SAY THAT YOUR MADE FUN IF FOR IT??????? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?????

And MY shy ass didn’t say a damn thing because “it’s not my place to talk, I’m white as heck and have never been made fun of for being white”

And also, “racism it’s the even a big thing anymore”??????? PISSES ME OFF WHEN EVER I THINK OF IT TO NO END

Like, first of all, IF THERE ARE PROTESTS AND PEOPLE ARE BEING KILLED FOR BEING BLACK THEN I THINK RACISM IS STILL A THING !!!!!

Second, YOU ARE A MAN, A CISGENDER MAN!!!! BOTH OF YOU!!!!! MEANWHILE AT THE TIME I WAS STILL CLOSETED SO YOUR SAYING THIS SHIT IN FRONT OF YOUR “SISTER” WHO HAS SAID THAT “SHE” WAS PUT DOWN A NUMBER OF TIMES FOR BEING BIOGRAPHICALLY FEMALE BY BOYS WHO THREW ROCKS AT GIRLS IN FIRST GRADE????? WHO LITERALLY HAS A SCAR FROM A SHARP ROCK THAT WAS THROWN AT MY BACK BY SOME KID IN FIRST GRADE???????

THIRD, YOU ARE CIS GENDER!!!! Hey hey hey, buddy, imagine not being able to go outside without worrying that you’ll get killed while walking to the dollar tree because you drew a non-binary flag on your arm the other day and couldn’t rub it off!!!!! How great does that sound :D /s

Fourth, you are STRAIGHT!!!!!!! BEING THE GAY ONE IN THE FAMILY IS KINDA HARD! And then how much it hurt seeing them make jokes about slapping each other’s asses, and making fun of a kid cause he sounded gay (who literally became homophobic because of it, as a kid he was supportive of it, but now is sorta homophobic because he’s straight and has been made fun of for people thinking he’s gay), TOOK THE “pedophiles are being added to LGBT” FUCKING SERIOUSLY

LIKE, I WASN’T OUT AT THE TIME AND THEY STOPPED MAKING JOKES LIKE THAT AFTER I TOLD THEM, BUT THEY ARE SO HORRIBLE SOMETIMES I SWEAR!!!! I AHVE NO IDEA HOW YHEY GREW TO BE LIEK THIS BECAUSE MY MOM ALWAYS TELLS THEM TO FUCKING STOP BECAUSE ITS OFFENSIVE AND RUDE, AND MY DAD SHOWS THAT HE DOENST LIEK IT EITHER

so that’s my Ted talk, moral of the story, if your a straight white cisgender man stop complaining about it.

tw: racism, homophobia, transphobia

THAT SH!T PISSES ME OFF WTF

(DISCLAIMER: okay y’all, to be clear: i’m in no way bashing anyone who’s straight or cisgender. this is talking about the topic in general and how people have negative influences on others, but it’s not directly related to them being white, straight, and cis-- it’s about the way that they’re handling it and how immature those people are. please don’t be offended if you fit into any of those categories.)

okok, thanks for letting me know all of this info boo! just wanted to let you know that you’re one heck of an amazing person and i think you’re so so strong for still being here. so pls oml, GIVE YOURSELF A PAT ON THE BACK BECAUSE YOU DESERVE IT! and hey, despite all you’ve been through, i can’t stress HOW thankful i am that you haven’t let it get to you. you’re not a cold-hearted and rude person and that just fills me with so much love for you because that’s just such a beautiful thing. 

BUT NOW.

THE BROTHERS.

BAE I AM SO SORRY.

now now i’m supposed to be loving and kind to everyone, but this- i- i don’t know how to sugarcoat this. 

they are white.

they are cisgender.

and they are men, straight men, at that.

AND THEY HAVE THE AUDACITY TO SAY THAT THEY’VE BEEN BULLIED FOR BEING WHITE??

I JUST BLACKED OUT FOR A SECOND THERE

LISTEN, I KNOW THERE’S BEEN A LOT OF DISCRIMINATION LATELY. THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A VERY SWEET, KIND, AMAZING WHITE GUY GAL OR NONBINARY PAL SAYING THAT THEY GOT BULLIED IN GENERAL? THAT’S OKAY, COMPLETELY OKAY.

BUT IF THEY HAVE ALREADY CROSSED THE LINE MULTIPLE TIMES AND THEN CHOSE TO THINK ABOUT THEMSELVES FOR “being white??” like honey come again, what did they say?? like did someone go to you and say, “yooooo guys, i’m white!” and use their fingers to make their eyes bigger? and yet it’s okay when you, you stupid cis white straight man make your eyes smaller and say “ch*ng ch*ng” and sing it to a bunch of asian kids?? is that what it is to you?

CHERRY I AM SO SORRY WTF THAT MUST BE TERRIBLE

and then.

i am trying so very hard not to scream rn because i can FEEL your pain through this ask.

and tHEN THEY SAY “racism isn’t a big thing anymore.”

...i’m sorry, did i hear you correctly?

racism isn’t a big thing anymore?

RACISM ISN’T A BIG THING ANYMORE???

RIGHT, RIGHT, HOW ABOUT YOU TELL THAT TO THE MILLIONS OF PEOPLE WHO FOUGHT FOR BLM AND ASIAN LIVES AS THEY SCREAMED FOR JUSTICE?? HOW ABOUT YOU TELL THAT TO THE PEOPLE WHO’VE BEEN MURDERED JUST FOR BEING IN THEIR OWN SKIN?? HOW ABOUT YOU TELL THAT TO THE PEOPLE WHO’VE LOST FAMILY AND FRIENDS BECAUSE THEY WERE JUST BEING HUMAN.

AND THEN THEY DON’T RESPECT YOUR PRONOUNS??

i’m literally about to cry right now, that’s so messed up

AND I AM SO SORRY ON BEHALF OF WHAT YOU’RE GOING THROUGH, THIS MUST BE SO ROUGH RIGHT NOW AND I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TERRIBLE THIS MUST BE FOR WHAT YOU’RE GOING THROUGH.

BUT YOU

ARE

A 

STRONG

AMAZING

OVERLORD

AND I AM VERY VERY PROUD OF YOU

FOR FIGHTING AND CONTINUING TO BE KIND TO OTHERS

ILY VERY MUCH AND I THINK YOU’RE A NEAT PERSON, REMEMBER THAT YOU ARE VALID. YOU ARE SO VALID. ILY. 

[oneshot-wxnderland]

Family Day | Damian Wayne

summary: It’s Family Day at Gotham Academy so the fam pulls up to antagonize the Demon Spawn and end up meeting his not-so-secret crush Y/n.

category: fluff

______________

          It was the day Damian had been dreading for a month since the stupid principal had announced it: Family Day. The day where everyone brought their families to Gotham Academy to show them their stupid awards and their stupid teachers and their stupid projects. Needless to say, Damian was not a happy camper.

          Of course he had tried to hide it from his father, but Bruce knows everything. So there they were, pulling up with the whole crew to the prison where Damian spent most of his time. Bruce came because as an upstanding citizen of Gotham it was his duty to attend, and also because he wanted to support his son, no matter how begrudgingly that support was received. And of course the rest of the ass-hats had to come along just to patronize him.

          Damian rolled his eyes at each praise Bruce gave him for all the awards he got and glared murder at all of the sarcastic praises the rest of them felt oh-so inclined to provide. He didn't care about some stupid awards that anyone could get, and as they went from class to class, Damian found it getting harder and harder not to murder his very adoptive brothers.

          Then it was time for the one class that made Damian at least not scowl as deeply as the others: art class. As Damian's entourage entered the room that had color bursting from every inch of it, they were taken aback by all of the paintings, drawings, and even sculptures that were created by their little brother.

          "Wow Damian," Jason said as he leaned his elbow on the shorter boy's head. "None of these portray how psychotic or brooding you are."

          "Shut it, Todd," he retorted, immediately throwing the arm off.

          "Ah, Mr. Wayne, so nice to finally meet you." Both of their heads turned to see the art teacher shaking Bruce's hand. "Damian has done amazingly in my class. He's my sketching star."

          "Hear that Damian? You're a star!"

          "Grayson, I will end you."

          Something caught Tim's attention and he turned to the photographs mounted on the wall. A couple of them featured Damian, except he wasn't the Damian he knew, this Damian was smiling and... happy.

          "Whatcha lookin' at, Timmy?"Jason showed just as much surprise as Tim did. "Dick, get over here."

          "Is that Damian?"

          "No it's his long-lost twin, dipshit."

          Jason looked closer to the name card that was under the photos.

          "Y/n Y/l/n. Who’s that?"

          "Dick, Jason, Tim, come on."

          When lunch time had slowly crawled in, Damian lead them to a secluded spot under a giant oak. It was where he always ate and it had a good view of the rest of the courtyard.

          While Damian was ignoring all of his brothers' joking attempts at conversation, he was subtly watching a certain picnic table where a head of Y/h/c hair he would know anywhere was sitting. He continued not-creepily watching when he saw James Isaac sit down next to her, his eyes narrowed and he gripped his sandwich tighter. James was the school jock, if you could call him that. He was all talk and believed himself to be the greatest gift to this world since protein shakes.

          James sat down next to her a little too close for Damian's comfort, and it was obvious that it was a little too close for her's as well. Y/n scooted the tiniest inch away, the movement too small for anyone else to notice, but Damian always noticed everything about her.

          And that movement was enough to get Damian on his feet.

         "Wait here," he said in a low, bordering-on-dangerous voice. His sudden mood swing surprised them. Now Damian was always seemed angry and sour faced, but it was rare for any of them to see him this angry and sour faced.

          As Damian was walking over to the table, he saw James' cool composer turn to one of embarrassed rage. He couldn't hear what they were saying but he could tell it was not going in James' favor. Then James roughly grabbed Y/n's wrist when she tried to walk away from him.

          “Listen here you-”

          "Should leave now," Damian cut in and they both looked up at him, Y/n smiled in relief and James scowled. 

          "Excuse me?" James said, incredulous, standing up and getting in Damian's face.

          Meanwhile under the oak tree, the rest of the boys were watching on with a variation of emotions. Jason looked on with a bemused smile, Tim was just plain confused, while Dick and Bruce were getting worried about Damian turning violent.

          Damian didn't even have to say anything, the cold-steel look he gave James was enough to scare him off make him leave with a halfhearted, "Whatever."

          "Thank you, Damian," Y/n's relieved voice took Damian out of his revere of staring murder at James' retreating form. He looked down at her eyes (which, completely coincidentally, were now his new favorite color) and sat next to her.

          "Can I see your arm?" He asked and gingerly took her wrist into his hand, checking it over for injuries. "It probably won't bruise, you should be good."

          "Thanks, I just can't stand him."

          "Who can?" Y/n laughed and all the remaining tension melted from his shoulders.

          "Where's your family?" he asked, noticing nobody else with her, and also trying to ignore the blush creeping up his to his cheeks.

          "They couldn’t get off work," She answered, but her attention wasn't on him. "And I think yours is staring at us."

           Damian's head immediately whipped around and he saw the them all look away. Jason even had the nerve to start whistling.

          Turning back to Y/n, he groaned and heard her suppress a laugh.

          "I guess I'd better go introduce you," Damian said, standing up and reaching his hand out for her.

          "I'd like nothing more."

          As they made their way back to the tree, Jason leaned over to Dick and said in a loud whisper, "I think that's Y/n."

[hetyra]

So I’ve been concocting a NG+/time travel P5 story idea where both Akira and Goro remember the original timeline in my head for like the past week, and since I’m terrible about finishing multi-chapter fics I’m just gonna ramble about it in a very long post instead lol

The reset doesn’t apply equally to them.

Akira goes to sleep one night weeks or months after the events of the game and wakes up after what feels like only minutes later on the train bound for Shibuya just like he does at the beginning of the game.

Goro on the other hand goes from exchanging bullets with the cognitive version of himself in Shido’s palace to waking up in bed in the blink of an eye. It takes a few minutes, but he realizes he’s 14 again and it’s the first day of his last year of middle school – which is also the day the meta-nav appeared on his phone.

He winds up not using the app at all. Nor does he approach Shido and offer his “services”. He’s extremely shaken up by all the memories or dreams or whatever the hell they are. He decides he doesn’t care, but he’d rather avoid becoming that kind of person and meeting that fate.

By pure happenstance, he eventually ends up meeting Wakaba. Feeling guilt for being the original cause of her death, Goro feels the want to help her this time around and ends up expressing an interest in cognitive psience (which isn’t a total lie) that results in them making a sort of confidant deal.

Through Wakaba he also meets and gets to know both Sojiro and Futaba.

Realizing that his lack of involvement with Shido could have potentially prevented Akira’s original arrest, Goro chooses to attend Shujin for high school; intent on forming the PTs himself if need be.

It’s right around this time that Sojiro suddenly offers to adopt him.

He starts attending high school as Sakura Goro, and everything is going great. Until it’s not.

Wakaba dies. In the same exact manner as when he had been the one behind it.

Up to this point in time, Goro occasionally had PTSD symptoms when things reminding him of his actions in the previous timeline came up. Wakaba’s death affects him terribly, and all his symptoms get worse from there on out.

Sojiro moves them out to Yongen and eventually gets custody of Futaba, and Goro not wanting to deal with or think about what’s going on or what happened before, instead focusses on preventing Futaba from developing a palace. He succeeds.

Around this time, Sojiro starts worrying a lot about Goro. He knows he’s been… off ever since Wakaba’s death. Even now it seems like her death is weighing heavier on him than it is Futaba.

Right about the time Futaba passes her entrance exams to get into Shujin, Sojiro is asked to take in Akira for his probation. Goro, who was helping out at Leblanc at the time of the conversation, practically bullies Sojiro into accepting.

Back to Akira now.

His arrival in Tokyo goes exactly as it did before. The next day goes much the same, up until they’re in the car on their way back to Leblanc. For the hell of it, Akira asks Sojiro again why he took him in. Sojiro’s answer is the same, except instead of saying “I was already paid for it too.” He says “My son was rather insistent I do, too.”

Akira in shock and confusion asks “Son?” to which Sojiro explains: “Oh right. I have two kids; adopted both of them and they happen to go to Shujin too. My son, Goro, is a 3rd year while my daughter, Futaba, is a 1st year. Hopefully they’ll be a good influence on you instead of the other way around.”

Cue Akira’s brain short-circuiting at the mention of Goro.

Upon arriving back at Leblanc, Futaba and Goro are there waiting for them. Futaba wastes no time commenting on how Akira doesn’t look all that tough while Goro is standing behind the counter making everyone coffee – and wearing jeans and a hoodie to Akira’s continued shock.

Sojiro doesn’t let them talk long after he feeds them, saying they should all go to bed since they have school in the morning. Futaba leaves fairly quickly but Sojiro stops Goro to ask if he’s alright, having noted the bags under his eyes. When Goro says it’s nothing to worry about and leaves, Sojiro sighs and mumbles just loud enough for Akira to hear “Is it because there was another subway accident?”

That night, Akira’s dreams put him in the velvet room. He’s happy to see Lavenza and the real Igor but surprised when he hears Goro in the cell next to his.

Lavenza explains who she and Igor are to Goro and that despite their collective freedom from Yaldabitch, he does in fact still exist in this timeline and must be dealt with. Akira helps fill in Goro on how they dealt with him before but that’s all they have time to discuss before they’re being woken up by their respective alarm clocks.

Futaba goes to school ahead of them with the excuse that she doesn’t want to be seen with her dorky older brother and the guy with a criminal record, giving the two of them time to talk.

Akira is quick to demand answers regarding the mental shutdowns and psychotic breakdowns, which elicits a rather desperate denial out of Goro. He insists it’s not him causing them and he doesn’t know who is, and Akira realizes quickly that Goro isn’t lying and is legitimately anxious about it.

The knowledge that someone else seems to have entered the “game” makes Akira uneasy, but assures Goro that things will be fine. They’ll stop whoever it is, Shido, and Yaldabitch. But first they need the Phantom Thieves.

This is when Goro admits he has yet to use the nav, despite having had it for 3 years at this point. Before Akira can comment on that, they exit the station to the rain and he instead opens the app and maneuvers them both so that they encounter Ann, Kamoshida, and Ryuji.

When they arrive at the castle instead of the school, Goro levels a look at him but simply sighs and goes with it when Akira tells him to trust him.

Everything goes the same as before, awakening and all, even with Goro there. That is up until Morgana just walks up to them. He’s not in a cell.

It turns out Morgana also remembers everything and it takes some improv acting on both Morgana and Goro’s parts to cover for Akira’s stupidity when Ryuji asks “Wait, you know this monster-cat?!”

 When they get home that night, Goro tries to take the blame for them being late but Sojiro doesn’t bite – turning to Akira and telling him that his son is a good kid and he won’t have Akira influencing him into bad behavior. Sojiro isn’t quite as angry a few minutes later when he comes upstairs to find Morgana chilling on Akira’s bed.

Goro asks Akira the next morning to text him when Ryuji asks to go back to the palace, to which Akira agrees with the full intention on not doing that.

The day of the volleyball rally, Akira is on his way to the next abuse victim he needs to question when he‘s suddenly yanked around a corner by a very miffed looking Goro. Akira apologizes and explains why he left him out, receives a grumpy “Ok, I forgive you” and continues on his mission.

Akira again does not tell Goro they’re going into the palace the day Ann follows them in and awakens to her own persona, despite Ryuji and Morgana both telling him he should.

It’s later when they’re exchanging their contact info with Ann that Goro appears looking very pissed off at certain someone. After that, the group chat is established with Goro in it so he will in fact know when they’re going to the palace.

Goro sticks to back up and surveillance due to still not having awakened to his persona yet, but throughout their infiltration he notes Joker’s watchful eye on him and the constant reminders to stay safe.

Come the gym-turned-church Goro decides he’s had enough of the other tricksters incessant worrying over him. The two of them start to argue, Akira never quite saying it’s because he doesn’t want to witness Goro die again, when the angel shadow appears and interrupts them. Akira quickly turns his attention to it and tells Goro to get to a safe distance, which cause the latter to yell back angrily.

Cue Loki’s voice and Goro ripping off a mask.

Goro’s has a new outfit, though it’s sort of a mix between his two previous outfits and Jokers

He discovers he still has Robin Hood as well.

And that’s about as far as I’ve figured out.

I haven’t decided whether the events of the new semester in Royal happened in the original timeline, but I really want to stick with the “from being shot to waking up in bed” thing so if they did I’m rolling with Goro’s memory of the events feeling disjointed and out of place.

There’s one scene I actually animated (because I was bored and in the mood to animate) that takes place later, when they go to the airsoft shop for the first time. Ryuji tells Akira about the shop over the phone, and Akira doesn’t tell Goro what they’re doing, only to meet up with them in Shibuya and that it was important. Akira thought it’d be funny if Ryuji were to ask Goro if he knew anything about guns with absolutely no context – and he does indeed finds Goro’s “overreaction” quite funny. At this point, Akira still isn’t aware that Goro actually has PTSD because of the events in the original timeline, and so thinks it’s just a funny inside joke. Goro’s anxiety meanwhile is through the fucking roof.

Here’s a link to the video of the scene.

[living-dead-parker]

Grocery Store Antics - Dad!Tony

Summary: Tony takes his kids to the grocery store

Warnings: cussing, probs ooc, nebula was adopted by Tony idc idc idc, tony in a dad outfit just picture it plz, not super funny but i tried 

Part of a new collection I plan on starting called Tony Stark and his kids.

Word Count: 1.8k

"We need some hot links, hot dog buns, some chicken, drinks, and some desert," Pepper says out loud before turning to look at May who is making the list. May gives her a thumbs up, completing the shopping list. Among it includes bug spray, pool noodles, and tons of ice cream. All of it completely necessary.

The heat is returning once again, and while not super hot, it's warm enough for a barbeque and swimming in the lake. Tony insisted on grilling and making a day out of it. He has his dad outfit on; a pair of khaki cargo shorts, random SI shirt, and his dad sandals. He has on a bucket hat, of all accessories, and some sunglasses with the lanyard strap on it. Peter insisted Tony wears the ensemble, making him look like the ultimate dad. You're not sure how Peter convinced him to do it, but maybe he's finally accepting that he's becoming an old man. Either way, you're shocked because you remember being 14 and hearing your dad claim that you'd never catch him dead in a pair of cargo shorts and a bucket hat.

"Someone go with me to the store!" Tony exclaims, hearing feet running down the hall. In seconds, all the kids come tumbling in. Morgan up front, Peter next to her. You stand behind Peter and Nebula behind Morgan. Tony rubs at his temple before pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Dad move!" you yell, causing Peter to giggle. Tony looks up, beginning to regret any of this. Now his children are gonna bully him? It's like the Avengers all over again.

"What store are we going to?" Peter asks, walking over to May and grabbing the list from her.

"Not sure, but let's get going while May and Pep set up. Rhodey should be here in a bit, so we should get going."

With that, you lead the way out, followed by Morgan, Nebula, then Peter. Tony walks behind everyone, closing behind him. You sit in the passenger seat of the Audi SUV, connecting your phone once the car is on. Peter sits behind you, Morgan in the middle in her car seat, and Nebula behind dad. Tony pulls out of the driveway, heading off towards the city. Taking over the music, you start by playing some RHCP, to which both you and Tony sing to.

The drive wasn't too long, but it wasn't super quick either, having to drive a good twenty minutes to reach the nearest grocery store. You played some classics, singing along as loud as you could with your father. Every once in a while, the two of you would glance over at each other, smiles as wide as rivers and oceans. Tony would take in the sight of his first born, the pride and joy he's felt overpowering anything. Getting you back was probably the biggest event in his life. You, on the other hand, seeing the old man makes you feel nostalgic. He's been through so much and you owe it all to him. He's always been so selfless with you, even if things were bumpy at times. Cheesy as it may sound, he's your soul mate and you're his soulmate.

"Alright," Tony says once the car comes to a stop in the parking lot of the grocery store. "No lollygagging, in and out. Hear me?"

"You got it, sir."

Peter runs off and grabs a cart from the parking lot collector things. He returns to you all, moving over to your side. Tony picks up Morgan and puts her in the small seat on the top basket. He turns and sees Nebula eyeing the cart, never having done it before. It's quite adorable, actually. She's been getting used to more human things. Shopping malls, movie theaters, parks, and watching TV. For now, Tony and Pepper are letting her be a kid, seeing that she didn't get much of that. They're letting her experience the good stuff in life. All the ice cream, the fun parties, and bounce houses, cool music, and television. All of it.

So Tony chuckles as he nods his head to the bigger basket. "Get in, ya big dope," he jokes. A full belly laugh comes out when Nebula gets in excitedly, squealing as she sits down in the cart. You giggles, taking a quick picture of her in the cart. Having a blue alien sister is cool, except for when it's not. The only times it's not is when you see people staring at her like some kind of monster. It tends to happen a lot in public, much like at this very moment. There's a couple staring harshly while their kids ask about the 'cool blue lady'.

"What are you looking at?" you call out, causing Tony and Peter to pause in their steps. Your group all look over at the people on the other side, meanwhile Nebula looks down shamefully. Sometimes, she refuses to go out for that reason. People tend to ruin the moment. "She's cool and helped save the world, so a thank you is in order instead of staring at her like she's a monster."

The couple turns away and walks faster, almost running away. You flip them the bird when they look over their shoulders, but ultimately they speed walk away all the way. Tony chuckles, lightly clapping your shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay. They're not worth the stress," Tony says looking at you and then at Nebula.

"Let's just go inside and get what we need," you mutter softly, calming down from the moment.

Upon entering the store, things went downhill. Morgan was beginning to get antsy, so Tony put her down so she could walk. The first thing you all got was the dry food items. From there, you went to other non-perishable items or things that did not need to be refrigerated just yet. Before getting the meat and cake, you all happened to walk into the aisle with toys and pool supplies.

"Dad!" you exclaim, grabbing an already inflated whale floatie with black handles on it. "We need him!"

Tony sighs, pointing at the basket nonetheless. You giggle villainously and throw the floatie into the pool. Peter grabs a couple of pool noodles, Morgan grabbing three boxes of donut floaties, three mattress floaties. Behind Tony's back, you and Peter sneak in two boxes into the cart while Tony answers his phone. When he turns around, he has five super soakers in his hands.

"So, change of plans. Steve, Nat, Sam, and Bucky are going to be joining us for some food and a swim."

"So we ambush them with water guns?" Nebula asks. Her voice sounds almost menacing. It's awesome.

"Morgan, you take Nat. She won't attack. Peter, Y/N, Neb," Tony continues, looking at the three of you. "You take Sam and Bucky. I'll get Steve. That sound good?"

"Sounds better than good," you respond excitedly. Tony chucks the soakers into the cart, grabbing the handle and pushing it. There are still so many more things to buy, and the first cart is already running out of space. Even without Nebula in it. So Tony sends you and Peter to get a new cart.

The two of you do just that, grabbing a new cart and racing back inside. However, when he hears the distant sound of singing, he knows it's you. As the words to My Heart Will Go On fill Tony's ears, he sighs. Not a minute later, you're rounding the corner into the aisle that Tony is in, revealing Peter kneeling at the end of the cart with his arms spread as if he was in the king of the world scene in Titanic. Tony sighs, assuming his signature Tired Dad™ stance; head down, temple rub, pinching bridge of nose.

"Onward, trustee sea captain!" Peter exclaims. Tony flips the kid off, pushing the cart out of the aisle and into a new one.

"Dad," Morgan says excitedly as the group approaches the produce section. Tony turns to see his little girl with an orange in her hand. "Orange you glad I'm the normal one?"

Tony chuckles, shaking his head but approving of the joke nonetheless. However, you approach with your hands behind your back. You look at the little girl before squatting down to her level. You pull one hand forward, revealing an avocado.

"Avocadon't go there," you start. You proceed to reveal a squash in your other hand. "Before I squash you," you continue, pulling out your phone and showing your screen to reveal a google image search of baby goats. "Kid."

The beginning probably wouldn't have been funny, but Tony finds himself busting a guy at the preparedness and the commitment to the joke. How you had that ready, he'll never know, but he doesn't want to. He likes the mystery.

"Tony," Peter comes up, holding his hand out to reveal an orange in his hand. "Orange you gla-"

"Morgan beat you to it," you say, looking around a grabbing a bag off one of the nearest stands. It seemed to be all so conveniently placed. Tony's impressed. A bag of peas. "Pea-ter."

Peter is stunned into a silence. First Morgan steals his pun but now he gets punned right back. Not even by Morgan. He feels bamboozled. Peter looks around and grabs a small bag of beans just a few feet away from the group.

"I feel so bean-boozled."

"How do I do it with all of you kids?" Tony asks as he begins pushing one of the carts away.

"Should have kept your legs closed," Nebula cuts in, causing you to burst into laughter.

"She got you, dad."

"It doesn't even work like that-" Tony cuts himself off with a playful sigh. "Plus two of you aren't my creation, so," Tony mutters, not sure what to say next.

The rest of the grocery trip was spent making dumb puns, mispronouncing any and everything. It also involved bugging Tony as much as possible. There's one thing all four of you enjoy doing, and it's bugging Tony. Who doesn't enjoy bugging their dad?

"Morgan, say cupcakes are for basic bitches," you encourage the girl. Tony turns to look at you two as Peter and Nebula continue looking for some kind of desert to feed everyone. You suggested cake, but dad keeps saying no.

"Morgan if you say it I will tell mommy-"

"I'll have Peter make you a web swing!" you bargain.

Morgan nods, watching as you pull your phone out. You open your camera and begin recording.

"Daddy," Morgan begins, smirking as Tony begins shaking his head. "Cupcakes are for basic bitches,"

Suddenly, Peter and Nebula burst into laughter at the young girl's words. At that point, Tony calls it a day. They've been at the store for about an hour, things are running behind. So Tony heads to check out, pay for everything. Damn near has a heart attack at the price, despite the fact that he's a literal billionaire.

"500 dollars? How?"

He looks over the receipt and sighs when he sees what cost him almost three hundred dollars and something that cost him 70.

"A raft lounge for almost 300 and an inflatable pool seesaw for 70? Wow. Bamboozled by my own kids."